4 Join', ye loud spheres', the vocal choir; Soon as gray ev'ning gilds the plain', 5 Thou heav'n' of heav'ns', his vast abode'; 6 Whate'er a blooming world contains ́, That wings the air', that skims the plains', United praise bestow`: Ye dragons', sound his awful name 7 Let ev'ry element rejoice; Ye thunders burst with awful voice', 8 To him', ye grateful cedars', bow`; And trembled at his frown'. 9 Ye flocks that haunt the humble vale', 10 Wake all ye mounting tribes', and sing`; TO HIM who shap'd your finer mould', Who tipp'd your glitt'ring wings with gold', And tun'd your voice to praise`. 11 Let man', by nobler passions sway'd', The feeling heart, the judging head', In heav'nly praise employ`; Spread his tremendous name around', 12 Ye whom the charms of grandeur please ́, Praise him', ye kings', who makes your pow'r 13 Ye fair', by nature form'd to move', Let age take up the tuneful lay`, FA SECTION XV. The universal prayer. NATHER OF ALL! in ev'ry age', By saint, by savage, and by sage', 2 Thou GREAT FIRST CAUSE', least understood Who all my sense confin'd To know but this', that Thou art good', 3 Yet gave me', in this dark estate', 4 What conscience dictates to be done', This teach me more than hell to shun', 5 What blessings thy free bounty gives', For God is paid, when man receives", 6 Yet not to earth's contracted span', Or think thee Lord alone of man', When thousand worlds are round 7 Let not this weak, unknowing hand, Presume thy bolts to throw'; 9 Save me alike from foolish pride', At aught thy wisdom has denied', 10 Teach me to feel another's wo`; 11 Mean tho' I am', not wholly so', Thou know'st if best bestow'd or not', 13 To thee', whose temple is all space', SECTION XVI. TREACH'ROUS conscience' while she seems to sleep On rose and myrtle', lull'd with syren song'; While she seems', nodding o'er her charge', to drop On headlong appetite the slacken'd rein', And give us up to license', unrecall'd', Unmark'd';-see', from behind her secret stand', The sly informer minutes ev'ry fault', And her dread diary with horror fills. 2 Not the gross act alone employs her pen'; She reconnoitres fancy's airy band', A watchful foe'! the formidable spy', List'ning o'erhears the whispers of our camp'; 3 As all rapacious usurers conceal Their doomsday-book from all-consuming heirs', Thus', with indulgence most severe, she treats And judgment publish`; publish to more worlds SECTION XVII. O the dark and silent tomb', To Soon 1 hasten'd from the womb`: H SECTION XVIII. The Cuckoo. AIL, beauteous stranger of the wood', Now heav'n repairs thy rural seat', 2 Soon as the daisy decks the green', Hast thou a star to guide thy path', S Delightful visitant! with thee When heav'n is fill'd with music sweet Of birds among the bow'rs`. 4 The school-boy', wand'ring in the wood', To pull the flow'rs so gay', Starts, thy curious voice to hear, 5 Soon as the pea puts on the bloom', An annual guest', in other lands', 6 Sweet bird! thy bow'r is ever green', 7 O could I fly', I'd fly with thee; -LOGAN. SECTION XIX. Day. A pastoral in three parts. MORNING. N the barn the tenant cock', Close to Partlet perch'd on high', Briskly crows' (the shepherd's clock'!) Jocund that the morning's nigh'. 2 Swiftly, from the mountain's brow', Shadows', nurs'd by night', retire'; And the peeping sun-beam', now', Paints with gold the village spire`. s Philomel forsakes the thorn', Plaintive where she prates at night', And the lark to meet the morn', Soars beyond the shepherd's sight'. 4 From the low-roof'd cottage ridge', See the chatt'ring swallow spring, Darting through the one-arch'd bridge, Quick she dips her dappled wing`. 5 Now the pine-tree's waving top, Gently greets the morning gale`, Kidlings, now, begin to crop Daisies', on the dewy dale. 6 From the balmy sweets', uncloyd', (Restless till her task be done',) |