But here, Decorum marks the bound,
We tread on consecrated ground.
Awaken'd by th' occassion high,
What gorgeous forms, sublime, draw nigh, Lo! even now, they hover o'er us,
The shades of patriots, bards and heroes,
All, with the high triumphant smile,
Rejoicing in their native Isle.
Old Scotia, too, though still she pour
The tear for her lamented MoORE,
Approving turns her eye of flame,
Exulting in her PLOUGHMAN's fame.
Sweet Fancy! from thy fairy bower,
O deign to come and bless the hour,
Let Humour give the mental feast,
Combin'd with wit and feeling, chaste;
And while beneath thy warming ray,
The gentler passions, sportive play,
Let Conscience over all the while, Be seen to sit and sweetly smile, Whence joy another day may rise, Beneath Reflection's sober skies.
FROM ISAIAH, CHAP. 1. 10.
Is there who humbly fears the Lord,
Depending on his faithful word,
Whose sky is, yet, o'ercast with gloom,
Whose path is cheerless as the tomb?—
O! then, let such an one beware,
Nor yield him to the fiend Despair.
Though bowed down, even to the dust,
Upon his God, strong, let him trust—
His path, though dark, is found to lye,
Directly under mercy's sky-
The morn of glory hastes along!
And Love shall be his endless song.
But ye, in sin's pernicious ways,
Who joy in pale presumption's blaze;
Tho' sparkles, bright, the meteor gleam,
And, sweet, descends the soothing dream-
Know wrath, at last, with rushing sweep,
Shall quench the whole in darkness deep.
FATHER! Lord of heaven and earth,
All sovereign are thy ways;
Let trembling still chastise our mirth,
With trembling let us praise.
The great, the prudent, and the wise,
Unspeakably forlorn,
Behold no ray in mercy's skies,
No brightening star of morn.
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