Write, and raise a fong divine,

Or come and hear, and borrow mine.
Son eternal, word fupreme,
Who made the univerfal frame,
Heaven, and all its fhining show,
Earth, and all it holds below:
Bow with mercy, bow thine ear,
While we fing thy praises here;
Son Eternal, ever-bless'd,
Refting on the Father's breaft,
Whofe tender love for all provides,
Whose power over all prefides;
Bow with pity, bow thine ear;
While we fing thy praises, hear!

Thou, by pity's foft extreme,
Mov'd, and won, and set on flame,
Affum'd the form of man, and fell
In pains, to rescue man from hell;
How bright thine humble glories rife,
And match the luftre of the fkies,
From death and hell's dejected state
Arifing, thou refum'd thy feat,
And golden thrones of blifs prepar'd
Above, to be thy faints' reward.

How bright thy glorious honours rife,
And with new luftre grace the skies!
For thee, the sweet feraphic choir
Raife the voice, and tune the lyre,
And praifes with harmonious found
Through all the highest heaven rebound.

O make

O make our notes with theirs agree,
And blefs the fouls that fing of thee!
To thee the churches here rejoice,
The folemn organs aid the voice:
To facred roofs the found we raife,
The facred roofs refound thy praife:
And while our notes in one agree,
O! bless the church that fings to thee!

ON HAPPINESS IN THIS

TH

LIFE.

HE morning opens, very freshly gay, And life itself is in the month of May. With green my fancy paints an arbour o'er, And flowerets with a thoufand colours more; Then falls to weaving that, and fpreading thefe, And softly shakes them with an easy breeze. With golden fruit adorns the bending shade, Or trails a filver water o'er its bed. Glide, gentle water, ftill more gently by, While in this fummer-bower of blifs I lye, And fweetly fing of fenfe-delighting flames, And nymphs and fhepherds, foft invented names; Or view the branches which around me twine, And praife their fruit, diffufing fprightly wine; Or find new pleafu:es in the world to praife, And ftill with this return adorn my lays ; "Range round your gardens of eternal spring, "Go, range my fenfes, while I fweetly fing :"

In vain, in vain, alas! feduc'd by ill,
And acted wildly by the force of will!
I tell my foul, it will be conftant May,
And charm a feafon never made to stay;
My beauteous arbour will not stand a storm,
The world but promises, and can't perform :
Then fade, ye leaves; and wither, all ye flowers;
I'll doat no longer in enchanted bowers;

But fadly mourn, in melancholy fong,

The vain conceits that held my foul fo long.
The lufts that tempt us with delusive show,
And fin brought forth for everlasting woe.
Thus fhall the notes to Sorrow's object rise,
While frequent rests procure a place for fighs;
And, as I moan upon the naked plain,
Be this the burthen clofing every strain :
Return, my senses; range no more abroad;
He 'll only find his bliss who seeks for God.

E X T A C Y.

HE fleeting joys, which all affords below,

ΤΗ

Work the fond heart with unperforming show; The wish that makes our happier life compleat, Nor grafps the wealth nor honours of the great; Nor loosely fails on Pleafure's easy stream, Nor gathers wreaths from all the groves of fame; Weak man, whofe charms to thefe alone confine, Attend my prayer, and learn to make it thine.

From

From thy rich throne, where circling trains of light
Make day that 's endlefs, infinitely bright;
Thence, heavenly Father! thence with mercy dart
One beam of brightness to my longing heart.
Dawn through the mind, drive Error's clouds away,
And ftill the rage in Paffion's troubled fea;
That the poor banish'd soul, ferene and free,
May rife from earth, to vifit heaven and thee:
Come, Peace divine! fhed gently from above,
Infpire my willing bofom, wondrous Love;
Thy purpled pinions to my shoulders tye,
And point the paffage where I want to fly.
But whither, whither now! what powerful fire
With this blefs'd influence equals my defire?
I rife (or Love, the kind deluder, reigns,
And acts in fancy fuch enchanted scenes);
Earth leffening flies, the parting skies retreat,
The fleecy clouds my waving feathers beat;
And now the fun and now the stars are gone,
Yet ftill methinks the fpirit bears me on,
Where tracts of æther purer blue difplay,
And edge the golden realm of native day.
Oh, ftrange enjoyment of a blifs unfeen!
Oh, ravishment! Oh, facred rage within!
Tumultuous pleasure, rais'd on peace of mind,
Sincere, exceffive, from the world refin'd!
I fee the light that veils the throne on high,
A light unpierc'd by man's impurer eye;

I hear the words, that iffuing thence proclaim,
"Let God's attendants praife his awful name!"

Then heads unnumber'd bend before the fhrine,
Mysterious feat of Majefty divine!

And hands unnumber'd ftrike the filver ftring,
And tongues unnumber'd Hallelujah fing.
See, where the shining Seraphims appear,
And fink their decent eyes with holy fear.
See flights of angels all their feathers raise,
And range the orbs, and, as they range, they praise
Behold the great Apoftles! fweetly met,

And high on pearls of azure æther set.
Behold the Prophets, full of heavenly fire,
With wandering finger wake the trembling lyre;
And hear the Martyrs' tune, and all around
The church triumphant makes the region found.
With harps of gold, with bows of ever-green,
With robes of white, the pious throngs are feen;
Exalted anthems all their hours employ,

And all is mufick, and excess of joy.

Charm'd with the fight, I long to bear a part;
The pleasure flutters at my ravish'd heart.
Sweet faints and angels of the heavenly choir,
If love has warm'd you with celestial fire,
Affift my words, and, as they move along,
With Hallelujahs crown the burthen'd song.
Father of all above, and all below,

O great, and far beyond expreffion so ;

No bounds thy knowledge, none thy power confine, For power and knowledge in their fource are thine; Around thee glory spreads her golden wing:

Sing, glittering angels, Hallelujah fing.

Son