you ; Sleep, felf-lovers, is for 30. ON THE SAME. EASON of my purest pleasure, Sealer of obferving eyes! When, in larger, freer measure, I can commune with the fkies; While, beneath thy fhade extended, Weary man forgets his woes; I, my daily trouble ended, Find, in watching, my repofe. Silence all around prevailing, Nature hufh'd in flumber sweet, No rude noife mine ears affailing, Now my God and I can meet : Univerfal nature slumbers, And my foul partakes the calm, Breathes her ardour out in numbers, Plaintive fong or lofty pfalm. Now my paffion, pure and holy, Shines and burns without restraint; Which the day's fatigue and folly Cause to languish, dim and faint: Charming hours of relaxation! How I dread the ascending sun! Surely, idle converfation Is an evil, match'd by none. Worldly prate and babble hurt me; Neither teach me nor divert me; I have ears for none but Love. I have neither art's fine polish, By converfing with the great, "Tis the fecret fear of finning Checks my tongue, or I should say, When I fee the night beginning, I am glad of parting day; Love this gentle admonition Whispers foft within my breast; " Choice befits not thy condition, Acquiefcence fuits thee beft." Henceforth, the repofe and pleasure Night affords me I refign; And thy will shall be the measure, Wisdom infinite of mine : Wishing is but Inclination Quarreling with thy decrees; Wayward nature finds the occafion'Tis her folly and disease. Night, with its fublime enjoyments, Neither time nor place impedes ; 31. ON THE SAME. IGHT! how I love thy filent fhades, My fpirits they compofe; The blifs of heaven my In fpite of all my woes. foul pervades, While fleep inftils her poppy dews In every flumbering eye, I watch, to meditate and mufe, And when I feel a God immense Familiarly impart, With every proof he can dispense, His favour to my heart; My native meanness I lament, His purpose and his course he keeps ; When in the duft, its proper place, Thou whom I ferve, and whose I am, How wretched is the creature's state The night, when pafs'd entire with thee, Left thou shouldst disappear. My Saviour! occupy me still Let Reason flumber out the night; But if thou deign to make 32. THE JOY OF THE CROSS. ONG plunged in sorrow, I refign That hand fhall wipe my ftreaming eyes; My fole poffeffion is thy love; And though with fervent fuit I pray, My rapid hours pursue the course And I thy fovereign will, By thy command, where'er I ftray, |