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Then shall ev'ry guiltless pleasure

Smile with charms unknown before, Hope fecure in real treasure

Mourn her blafted joys no more: Then through each revolving year— Though earthly glories fad away,

Though youth, and ftrength, and life itself, decay Yet ftill more bright the prospect shall appear; Happier ftill the latest day,

Brighteft far the parting ray.

O'er life's laft fcene celeftial beans fhall fhine,
Till Death at length fhall burst the chain,
While fongs of triumph found on high;
Then fhall Hope her pow'r refign,

Loft in endless ecstafy,

And never-fading joy in heaven's full glories reign.

LONELY and filent, o'er the ruffet fields,
Mufing along, with penfive fteps I rove !-
The scene no more its wonted pleasure yields,
Its beauty loft, and mute the neighb'ring grove.
Whilft Grief o'er drooping Nature theds a tear,
Affection fond fhall pour the duteous lay,

To mourn the ruins of the falling year,

Ere yet the wintry ftorms o'ercaft the day.

Sweet were thofe scenes, when lovely crops of grain Wav'd to the foft-wing'd breeze, that fragrance bore

From yonder, balmy meads and fertile plain,

Which now their flowery vestment wear no more.

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'Twas there, with bright-ey'd Fancy erft, I fray'd To meet Hygeia on the dewy lawn ; (Then fweeter fmil'd the rofy-blushing maid,) When young Aurora kindled up the dawn. And there, by lonely Contemplation led,

But now,

What time chafte Eve affum'd her gentle reign, Tafted the sweets by bounteous Nature spread; Sooth'd by fweet Philomela's charming strain :--which way foe'er I turn my eyes, The fading profpect fickens to my view, The drooping Woodland's variegated dyes Proclaim around gay Summer's last adieu. Adieu, ye fields; adieu, ye once-lov'd shades; Adieu those pleasures once to me ye gave '. For others joy the flowers may deck your glades, Your warblers fing, and future foliage wave.

But why lament for tranfient pleasures flown?
Spring fhall return, and deck the ravag'd plain;
Nature again fhall lofe her wintry frown,

And smile through all her animated reign.
If not to me; yet Hope's translucent ray
Opens a profpect far beyond the tomb,
Where happy fields enjoy a cloudless day,
And groves immortal wear a fadeless bloom.

A few revolving funs the change may bring,
Which lands me on that peaceful boundless shore,
There to enjoy an everlasting Spring,

Where Winter ftorms difturb the fcene no more.



This ODE represents the Difficulty of a just Translation of the Psalms of David, in all their Hebrew Glory; with an Apology for the Imitation of them in Christian Language.


me the man that dares and fings
Great David's verfe to British ftrings:
Sublime attempt! but bold and vain
As building Babel's tower again.

The bard that climb'd to Cooper's Hill,
Reaching at Zion, sham'd his skill,
And bids the fons of Albion own,
That Judah's Pfalmift reigns alone.

Bleft Poet! now, like gentle Thames,
He foothes our ears with filver ftreams;
Like his own Jordan now he rolls,
And sweeps away our captive fouls.

Softly the tuneful fhepherd leads
The Hebrew flocks to flowery meads:
He marks their path with notes divine,
While fountains spring with oil and wine.

Rivers of peace attend his fong,
And draw their milky train along:
He jars; and lo! the flints are broke,
But honey iffues from the rock.

When kindling with victorious fire,
He fhakes his lance across the lyre:
*Sir John Denham.

The lyre refounds unknown alarms,
And fets the thunderer in arms.

Behold the God! th' Almighty King
Rides on a tempeft's glorious wing:
His enfigns lighten round the sky,
And moving legions found on high.
Ten thousand cherubs wait his course,
Chariots of fire and flaming horse:
Earth trembles, and her mountains flow,
At his approach, like melting fnow.

But who these frowns of wrath can draw,
That strike Heav'n, Earth, and Hell, with awe?
Red lightning from his eyelids broke;
His voice was thunder, hail, and smoke.

He fpake; the cleaving waters fled,
And ftars beheld the ocean's bed:
While the great master strikes his lyre,
You fee the frighted floods retire :

In heaps the frighted billows ftand,
Waiting the changes of his hand :
He leads his Ifrael through the fea,
And watery mountains guard their way.
Turning his hand with fovereign fweep
He drowns all Egypt in the deep:
Then guides the tribes, a glorious band,
Through deferts, to the promis'd land!
Here camps, with wide embattl'd force;
Here gates and bulwarks ftop their course :
He ftorms the mounds, the bulwark falls,
The harp lies frow'd with ruin'd walls.

See his broad fword flies o'er the strings,

And mows down nations with their kings:
From every chord his bolts are hurl'd,
And vengeance fmites the rebel world.

Lo! the great Poet shifts the scene;
And fhews the face of God ferene:
Truth, Meekness, Peace, Salvation ride,
With guards of justice at his fide.

No meaner mufe could weave the light,
To form his robes divinely bright;
Or frame a crown of ftars to shine
With beams for Majesty Divine.

Now in prophetic light he fees
Ages to come, and dark decrees;
He brings the Prince of Glory down,
Stript of his robe and starry crown.

See Jews and Heathens fir'd with rage;
See the combining pow'rs engage
Against th' Anointed of the Lord,
The Man whom angels late ador'd;
God's only Son; behold he dies!
Surprising grief! the groans arife!
The lyre complains on ev'ry string,
And mourns the murder of her King.
But Heaven's Anointed must not dwell
In death the vanquish'd pow'rs of hell
Yield to the harp's diviner lay;
The grave refigns th' illuftrious prey.
Meffiah lives! Meffiah reigns!

The song furmounts the airy plains,

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