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The fmiling infant in his hand fhall take
The crefted bafilisk and speckled snake, Pleas'd the green luftre of the fcales furvey, And with their forky tongue shall innocently play. Rife, crown'd with light, imperial Salem, rise! Exalt thy tow'ry head, and lift thy eyes! See a long race thy spacious courts adorn ; See future fons, and daughters yet unborn, In crowding ranks on ev'ry fide arise, Demanding life, impatient for the skies! See barb'rous nations at thy gates attend, Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend; See thy bright altars throng'd with prostrate kings, And heap'd with products of Sabæan fprings ! For thee Idume's fpicy forefts blow, And feeds of gold in Ophir's mountains glow. See heav'n its fparkling portals wide difplay, And break upon thee in a flood of day! No more the rising fun fhall gild the morn, Nor ev'ning Cynthia fill her filver horn; But loft, diffolv'd in thy fuperior rays, One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze O'erflow thy courts: the light himself shall shine Reveal'd, and God's eternal day be thine!
The feas fhall wafte, the fkies in smoke dr
Rocks fall to duft, and mountains ~
But fix'd his word, his favin
Thy realm for ever lafts
The UNIVERSAL PRAYER.
By the Same.
ATHER of all! in ev'ry age,
By faint, by savage, and by fage,
Thou great firft caufe, leaft underfood:
Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound, Or think thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round:
Let not this weak, unknowing hand
If I am right, thy grace impart,
Save me alike from foolish pride,
At aught thy wisdom has deny'd,
Teach me to feel another's woe,
That mercy fhow to me.
Mean tho' I am, not wholly fo,
Since quick'ned by thy breath;
O lead me wherefoe'er I go,
Thro' this day's life or death.
This day, be bread and peace my lot:
All elfe beneath the fun,
Thou know'ft if best bestow'd or not,
To thee, whose temple is all space,
Whofe altar, earth, fea, fkies!
One chorus let all being raise !
NIGHT THOUGHTS, by Dr. YOUNG.
- NIGHT FIRST.
IR'D nature's fweet reftorer, balmy fleep!
He, like the world, his ready vifit pays
Where fortune fmiles; the wretched he forfakes:
From fhort (as ufual) and disturb'd repofe,
O Thou! whose word from folid darkness struck
That fpark the fun; ftrike wisdom from