The skies above present an azure show,
And lovely verdure paints an earth below.
I'll wind myself in this delightful sphere,
And live a thousand years of pleasure there;
Roll'd up in bliffes, which around me close,
And now regal'd with these, and now with those.
Falfe hope, but falfer words of joy, farewell,
You 've rent the lodging where I meant to dwell,
My bubbles burst, my prospects disappear,

And leave behind a moral and a tear.

If at the type our dreaming fouls awake,

And Hannah's strains their just impression make,
The boundless power of Providence we know,
And fix our truft on nothing here below.

Then he, grown pleas'd that men his greatnefs own,
Looks down ferenely from his starry throne,
And bids the blefied days our prayers have won
Put on their glories, and prepare to run.
For which our thanks be justly sent above,
Enlarg'd by gladness, and inspir'd with love :
For which his praises be for ever fung,
O fweet employment of the grateful tongue!
Burft forth, my temper, in a godly fiame,
For all his bleffings laud his holy name:
That, ere mine eyes faluted chearful day,
A gift devoted in the womb I lay,

Like Samuel vow'd, before my breath I drew,
O could I prove in life like Samuel too!
That all my frame is exquifitely wrought,

The world enjoy'd by fenfe, and God by thought;

That

That living ftreams through living channels glide,
To make this frame by Nature's courfe abide;
That, for its good, by Providence's care,
Fire joins with water, earth concurs with air;
That Mercy's ever-inexhausted store

Is pleas'd to proffer, and to promise more;
And all the proffers ftream with grace divine,
And all the promises with glory shine.
O praise the Lord, my foul, in one accord,
Let all that is within me praise the Lord;
O praise the Lord, my foul, and ever strive
To keep the fweet remembrances alive.
Still raife the kind affections of thine heart,
Raise every grateful word to bear a part,
With every word the ftrains of love devifo,
Awake thine harp, and thou thyself arise;
Then, if his Mercy be not half exprefs'd,
Let wondering Silence magnify the reft.

D A V I. D.

MY thought, on views of admiration hung, Iatently ravish'd, and depriv'd of tongue,

Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,

Here mov'd with praife, and mov'd with glory there;
The joys entrancing, and the mute furprize,
Half fix the blood, and dim the moistening eyes;
Pleafure and praise on one another break,
An exclamation longs at heart to speak ;

When

When thus my Genius on the work defign'd,
Awaiting clofely, guides the wandering mind.

If, while thy thanks would in thy lays be wrought A bright aftonishment involve the thought, If yet thy temper would attempt to fing, Another's quill fhall imp thy feebler wing; Behold the name of royal David near, Behold his musick, and his measures hear, Whofe harp-Devotion in a rapture ftrung, And left no state of pious fouls unfung.

Him to the wondering world but newly fhewn,
Celestial Poetry pronounc'd her own;

A thousand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms. to gaze;
Fair-blooming Innocence, with tender years,
And native Sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to fmile within his early fong,

And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along :
Majeftic Honour, at the palace bred,

Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the fceptre of her royal fate,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great;
Undaunted Courage, deck'd with manly charms,
With waving azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Difplay'd the glories and the toils of fight,
Demanded Fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect thefe, the facred Spirit came,
By mild infufion of celeftial flame,

And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breaft,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.

Ah!

Ah! where the daring flights of men aspire,
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they ftrive to make proud Babel rise,
And with an earth-born labour touch the fkies
While I the glittering page refolve to view,
That will the subject of my lines renew;
The laurel wreath, my fame's imagin'd flrade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help, or else I fink.
As rolling rivers in their channels flow,
Swift from aloft, but on the level flow :
Or rage in rocks, or glide along the plains,
So just, fo copious, move the Pfalmift's ftrains
So fweetly vary'd with proportion'd heat,
So gently clear, or fo fublimely great;

While Nature's feen in all her forms to fhine,
And mix with beauties drawn from Truth divine;
Sweet beauties (fweet affection's endless rill)
That in the foul like honey-drops diftil.
Hail, Holy Spirit, hail Supremely Kind,
Whofe infpirations thus enlarg'd the mind;
Who taught him what the gentle fhepherd fings,
What rich expreffions fuit the port of kings:
What daring words defcribe the foldier's heat,
And what the Prophet's extafies relate;
Nor let his worst condition be forgot,
In all this splendour of exalted thought.
On one thy different forts of graces fall,
Still made for cach, of equal force in all ;

And

And while from heavenly courts he feels a flame,
He fings the place from whence the blessing came;
And makes his infpirations fweetly prove

The tuneful fubject of the mind they move.
Immortal Spirit, Light of Life instill'd,

Who thus the bofom of a mortal fill'd,

Though weak my voice, and though my light be dim,
Yet fain I'd praise thy wondrous gifts in him;
Then, fince thine aid's attracted by desire,
And they that speak thee right must feel thy fire,
Vouchsafe a portion of thy Grace Divine,
And raise my voice, and in my numbers shine:
I fing of David, David sings of thee,

Affift the Pfalmift, and his work in me.

But now, my verse, arising on the wing,
What part of all thy fubject wilt thou fing?
How fire thy first attempt? in what resort
Of Paleftina's plains, or Salem's court;
Where, as his hands the folemn measure play'd,
Curs'd fiends with torment and confufion fled;
Where, at the rofy spring of chearful light,
(If pious Fame record tradition right)
A foft efflation of celeftial fire

Came like a rushing breeze, and shook the lyre;
Still sweetly giving every trembling string
So much of found, as made him wake to fing?
Within my view the country first appears,
The country first enjoy'd his youthful years;
Then frame thy fhady landscapes in my ftrain,
Some confcious mountain, or accustom'd plain;

Where