His rod and hook direct me when I stray,
He calls to fold, and they direct my way."

Perhaps, when seated on the river's brink,
He saw the tender sheep at noon-day drink,
He sung the land where milk and honey glide,
And fattening plenty rolls upon the tide.

Or, fix'd within the freshness of a shade, Whose boughs diffuse their leaves around his head, He borrow'd notions from the kind retreat, Then sung the righteous in their happy state, And how, by Providential care, success Shall all their actions in due season bless; So firm they stand, so beautiful they look, As planted trees aside the purling brook: Not faded by the rays that parch the plain, Nor careful for the want of dropping rain: The leaves sprout forth, the rising branches shoot, And Summer crowns them with the ripen'd fruit. But if the flowery field, with varied hue, And native sweetness, entertain'd his view; The flowery field with all the glorious throng Of lively colours rose, to paint his song; Its pride and fall within the numbers ran, And spake the life of transitory man.

As grass arises by degrees unseen

To deck the breast of Earth with lovely green,
Till Nature's order brings the withering days,
And all the Summer's beauteous pomp decays;
So, by degrees unseen, doth man arise,

So blooms by course, and so by course he dies.
Or as her head the gaudy floweret heaves,
Spreads to the Sun, and boasts her silken leaves,
Till accidental winds their glory shed,
And then they fall before the time to fade;
So man appears, so falls in all his prime,
Ere Age approaches on the steps of Time.

But thee, my God! thee still the same we find,
Thy glory lasting, and thy mercy kind;
That still the just, and all his race, may know
No cause to mourn their swift account below.
When from beneath he saw the wandering sheep,
That graz'd the level, range along the steep,
Then rose, the wanton stragglers home to call,
Before the pearly dews at evening fall;
Perhaps new thoughts the rising ground supply,
And that employs his mind which fills his eye.
"From pointed hills," he cries, "my wishes tend,
To that great hill from whence supports descend:
The Lord's that hill, that place of sure defence,
My wants obtain their certain help from thence."
And as large hills projected shadows throw,
To ward the Sun from off the vales below,
Or for their safety stop the blast above,
That, with raw vapours loaded, nightly rove;
So shall protection o'er his servants spread,
And I repose beneath the sacred shade,
Unhurt by rage, that, like a Summer's day,
Destroys and scorches with impetuous ray:
By wasting sorrows, undepriv'd of rest,
That fall, like damps by moon-shine, on the breast,
Here from the mind the prospects seem to wear,
And leave the couch'd design appearing bare ;
And now no more the shepherd sings his hill,
But sings the sovereign Lord's protection still.
For as he sees the Night prepar'd to come,
On wings of Evening, he prepares for home;
And in the song thus adds a blessing more,
To what the thought within the figure bore:
“Eternal Goodness manifestly still
Preserves my soul from each approach of ill:

Ends all my days, as all my days begin,
And keeps my goings, and my comings-in."
Here think the sinking Sun descends apace,
And, from thy first attempt, my Fancy, cease;
Here bid the ruddy shepherd quit the plain,
And to the fold return his flocks again.
Go, lest the lion, or the shagged bear,
Thy tender lambs with savage hunger tear;
Though neither bear nor lion match thy might,
When in their rage they stood reveal'd to sight;
Go, lest thy wanton sheep returning home,
Should, as they pass, through doubtful darkness

roam.

Go, ruddy youth, to Bethlem turn thy way,
On Bethlem's road conclude the parting day.

Methinks he goes as twilight leads the night,
And sees the crescent rise with silver light;
His words consider all the sparkling show
With which the stars in golden order glow.
"And what is man," he cries, "that thus thy kind,
Thy wondrous love, has lodg'd him in thy mind?
For him they glitter, him the beasts of prey,
That scare my sheep, and these my sheep obey.
O Lord, our Lord, with how deserv'd a fame,
Does Earth record the glories of thy name !"
Then, as he thus devoutly walks along,
And finds the road has finish'd with the song,
He sings, with lifted hands and lifted eyes,
"Be this, my God, an evening sacrifice."

But now, the lowly dales, the trembling groves, O'er which the whisper'd breeze serenely roves, Leave all the course of working fancy clear, Or only grace another subject here; For in my purpose new designs arise, Whose brightening images engage mine eyes, Then here, my verse, thy louder accents raise, Thy theme through lofty paths of glory trace; Call forth his honours in imperial throngs, And strive to touch his more exalted songs.

While yet in humble vales his harp he strung,
While yet he follow'd after ewes with young,
Eternal Wisdom chose him for his own,
And from the flock advanc'd him to the throne;
That there his upright heart, and prudent hand,
With more distinguish'd skill, and high command,
Might act the shepherd in a nobler sphere,
And take his nation into regal care.

He could of mercy then, and justice sing,
Those radiant virtues that adorn a king,
That make his reign blaze forth with bright renown,
Beyond those gems whose splendour decks a crown:
That fixing peace, by temper'd love and fear,
Make plaius abound, and barren mountains bcar
"To thee, to whom these attributes belong,
To thee, my God," he cry'd, "I send my song;
To thee, from whom my regal glory came,
I sing the forms in which my court I frame;
Assist the models of imperfect skill,
O come, with sacred aid, and fix my will
A wise behaviour in my private ways,
And all my soul dispos'd to public peace,
Shall daily strive to let my subjects see
A perfect pattern how to live, in me.
Still will I think, as still my glories rise,
To set no wicked thing before mine eyes,
Nor will 1 choose the favourites of state,
Among those men that have incurr'd thine hate,
Whose vice but makes them scandalously great;
'Tis time that all, whose froward rage of heart
Would vex my realm, shall from my realm depart;

Thus, as you've seen th' effect reveal the cause,
Is Nature's ruler known in Nature's laws;
Thus still his power is o'er the world display'd,
And still rejoices in the worid he made.
The Lord he reigns, the King of kings is king;
Let nations praise, and praises learn to sing.

My verses here may change their style again,
And trace the psalmist in another strain;
Where all his soul the soldier's spirit warms,
And to the music fits the sound of arms;
Where brave disorder does in numbers dwell,
And artful number speaks disorder well.
Arise, my genius, and attempt the praise
Of dreaded power, and perilous essays;
And where his accents are too nobly great,
Like distant echoes, give the faint repeat:
For who, like him, with enterprizing pen,
Can paint the Lord of Hosts in wrath with men?
Or, with just images of tuneful lay,

Set all his terrours in their fierce array?
He comes! The tumult of discording spheres,
The quivering shocks of earth, confess their fears;
Thick smoke precede, and blasts of angry breath,
That kindle dread devouring flames of death.
He comes! the firmament, with dismal night,
Bows down, and seems to fall upon the light;
The darkling mists enwrap his head around,
The waters deluge, and the tempests sound;
While on the cherub's purple wings he flies,
And plants his black pavilion in the skies.
He comes! the clouds remove; the rattling hail,
Descending, bounds, and scatters o'er the vale:
His voice is heard, his thunder speaks his ire,
His lightning blasts with blue sulphureous fire;
His brandish'd bolts with swift commission go,
To punish man's rebellious acts below.
His stern rebukes lay deepest ocean bare,
And solid earth, by wide eruption, tear.
Then glares the naked gulph with dismal ray,
And then the dark foundations see the day:
O God! let mercy this thy war assuage:
Alas! no mortal cau sustain thy rage.
While I but strive the dire effects to tell,
And on another's words attentive dwell,
Confusing passions in my bosom roll,
And all in tumult work the troubled soul:
Remorse with pity, fear with sorrow blend,
And I but strive in vain; my verse, descend,
To less aspiring paths direct thy flight, [might;
Though still the less may more than match thy
While I to second agents tune the strings,
And Israel's warrior Israel's battles sings;
Great warrior he, and great to sing of war,
Whose lines (if ever lines prevail'd so far)
Might pitch the tents, compose the ranks anew,
To combat sound, and bring the toil to view.
O nation most securely rais'd in name,
Whose fair records he wrote for endless fame;
O nation oft victorious o'er thy foes,

At once thy conquests, and thy thanks he shows;
For thus he sung the realms that must be thine,
And made thee thus confess an aid divine.
When Mercy look'd, the waves perceiv'd its sway,
'And Israel pass'd the deep divided sea.
When Mercy spake it, haughty Pharaoh's host,
And haughty Pharaoh, by the waves were tost.
When Mercy led us through the desert sand,
We reach'd the borders of the promis'd land:
Then all the kings their gather'd armies brought,
And all those kings by Mercy's help we fought:

VOL. IX.

There, with their monarch, Amor's people bleed,
For God was gracious and the tribes succeed.
There monstrous Ogg was fel!'d ou Basan's plain,
For God was gracious to the tribes again.
At length their yoke the realms of Canaan feel,
And Israel sings that God is gracious still.

Nor has the warlike prince alone inroll'd
The wondrous feats their fathers did of old;
His own emblazon'd acts adorn his lays,
These too may challenge just returns of praise.
"My God!" he cries, " my surest rock of might,
My trust in dangers, and my shield in fight;
Thy matchless bounties I with gladness own,
Nor find assistance but from thee alone:
Thy strength is armour, and my path success,
No power like thee can thus securely bless.
When troops united would arrest my course,
I break their files, and through their order force;
When in their towns they keep, my siege I form,
And leap the battlements, and lead the storm;
And when in camps abroad intrench'd they lie,
As swift as hinds in chase I bound on high;
My strenuous arms thou teachest how to kill,
And snap in sunder temper'd bows of steel;
My moving footsteps are enlarg'd by thee,
And kept from snares of planned ambush free;
And when my foes forsake the field of fight,
Then, flush'd with conquest, I pursue their flight:
In vain their fears, that almost reach despair,
The trembling wretches from mine anger bear;
As swift as fear brisk warmth of conquest goes,
And at my feet dejects the wounded foes;
For help they call, but find their helper's gone,
For God's against them, and I drive them on
As whirling dust in airy tumult fly,
Before the tempest that involves the sky;
And, in my rage's unavoided sway,
I tread their necks like abject heaps of clay."
The warrior thus in song his deeds express'd
Nor vainly boasted what he but confess'd;
While warlike actions were prociaim'd abroad,
That all their praises should refer to God.

And here, to make this bright design arise,
In fairer splendour to the nation's eyes,
From private valour he converts his lays;
For yet the public claim'd attempts of praise;
And public conquests where they jointly fought
Thus stand recorded by reflecting thought:
"God sent his Samuel from his holy seat
To bear the promise of my future state,
And I, rejoicing, see the tribes fulfil
The promis'd purpose of Almighty will:
Subjected Sichem, sweet Samaria's plain,
And Succoth's valleys, have confess'd my reign;
Remoter Gilead's hilly tracts obey,

Manasseh's parted sands accept my sway; [mine,
Strong Ephraim's sons and Ephraim's ports are
And mine the throne of princely Judah's line;
Then since my people with my standard go,
To bring the strength of adverse empire low,
Let Moab's soil, to vile subjection brought,
With groans declare how well our ranks have fought;
Let vanquish'd Edom bow its humbled head,
And tell how pompous on its pride I tread;
And now, Philistia, with thy conquering host,
Dismay'd and broke, of conquer'd Israel boast;
But if a seer or rabbah yet remain
On Johemaan's hill, or Amon's plain,
Lead forth our armies, Lord, regard our prayer;
Lead, Lord of battles, and we'll conquer there,”

CC

As this the warrior spake, his heart arose,
And thus, with grateful turn, perform'd the close:
Though men to men their best assistance lend,
Yet men alone will but in vain befriend;
Through God we work exploits of high renown,
'Tis God that treads our great opposers down.
Hear now the praise of well-disputed fields,
The best return victorious honour yields;
'Tis common good restor'd, when lovely Peace
Is join'd with Righteousness in strict embrace;
Hear, all ye victors, what your sword securts,
Hear, all ye nations, for the cause is yours;
And when the joyful trumpets loudly sound,
When groaning captives in their ranks are bound,
When pillars lift the bloody plumes in air,
And broken shafts and batter'd armour bear;
When painted arches acts of war relate,
When slow procession's pomps augment the state;
When fame relateş their worth among the throng,
Thus take from David their triumphant song:
"Oh, clap your hands together! oh, rejoice,
In God, with melody's exalted voice;
Your sacred psalm within his dwelling raise,
And, for a pure oblation, offer praise;
For the rich goodness plentifully shows
He prospers our design upon our foes.
Then hither, all ye nations, hither run,
Behold the wonders which the Lord has done;
Behold, with what a mind, the heap of slain,
He spreads the sanguine surface of the plain;
He makes the wars, that mad confusion hurl'd,
Be spent in victories, and leave the world.
He breaks the bended bows, the spears of ire,
And burns the shatter'd chariots in the fire,
And bids the realms be still, the tumult cease,
And know the Lord of war, for Lord of peace."
Now may the tender youth in goodness rise,
Beneath the guidance of their parents eyes,
As tall young poplars, when the ranger's nigh,
To watch their risings, lest they shoot awry.
Now may the beauteous daughters, bred with care,
In modest rules, and pious acts of fear,
Like polish'd corners of the temple be,
So bright, so spotless, and so fit for thee.
Now may the various seasons bless the soil,
And plenteous gardeners pay the ploughman's toil;
Now sheep and kine, upon the flowery meads,
Increase in thousands, and ten thousand heads;
And now no more the sound of grief complains
For those that fall in fight, or live in chains;
Here, when the blessings are proclaim'd aloud,
Join all the voices of the thankful crowd;
Let all that feel them thus confess their part,
Thus own their worth, with one united heart;
Happy the realm which God vouchsafes to bless
With all the glories of a bright success!

And happy thrice the realm if thus he please
To crown those glories with the sweets of ease;
From warfare finish'd on a chain of thought,
To bright attempts of future rapture wrought;
Yet stronger, yet thy pinions stronger raise,
O Fancy, reigning in the power of lays.
For Sion's hill thine airy courses hold,
'Twas there thy David prophesy'd of old;
And there devout in contemplation sit,
In holy vision, and extatic fit.

Methinks I seem to feel the charm begin,
Now sweet contentment tunes my soul within;
Now wondrous soft arising music plays,
And now full sounds upon the sense increase;

Fit David's lyre, his artful fingers move,
To court the spirit from the realms above;
And, pleas'd to come where Holiness attends,
The courted spirit from above descends.
Hence on the lyre and voice new graces rest,
And bright prophetic forms enlarge the breast;
Hence firm decrees his mystic hymns relate,
Affix'd in Heaven's adamantine gate,
The glories of the most important age,
And Christ's blest empire seen by sure presage

When, in a distant view, with inward eyes,
He sees the Son descending from the skies,
To take the form of man for mankind's sake,
T is thus he makes the great Messiah speak:
"It is not, Father, blood of bullocks slain
Can cleanse the world from universal stain;
Such offerings are not bere required by thee,
But point at mine, and leave the work for me;
To perfect which, as servants ears they drill,
In sign of opening to their master's will;
Thy will would open mine, and have me bear
My sign of ministry, the body there.
Prophetic volumes of our state assign
The world's redemption as an act of mine;
And lo, with cheerful and obedient heart,
I come, my Father, to perform my part."
So spake the Son, and left his throng above,
When wings to bear him were prepar'd by Love;
When with their monarch, on the great descent,
Sweet Humbleness and gentle Patience went;
Fair sisters both, both bless'd in his esteem,
And both appointed here to wait on him.

But now, before the prophet's ravish'd eyes, Succeeding prospects of his life arise; And here he teaches all the world to sing Those strains in which the nation own'd him king. When boughs as at an holy feast they bear, To show the godhead manifested there; And garments, as a mark of glory, strow'd, Declar'd a prince proclaim'd upon the road:

This day the Lord hath made, we will employ In songs," he cries," and consecrate to joy. Hosannah, Lord, Hosannah, shed thy peace; Hosannah, long-expecting nations grace; Oh, bless'd in honour's height triumphant thou, That wast to come, oh, bless thy people now."

'T were easy dwelling here with fix'd delight, And much the sweet engagement of the sight; But fleeting visions each on other throng, And change the music, and demand the song: Ah! music chang'd by sadly moving show: Ah! song demanded in excess of woe! For what was all the gracious Saviour's stay, Whilst here he trod in life's encumber'd way, But troubled patience, persecuted breath, Neglected sorrows, and afflicting death; Approach, ye sinners; think the garden shows His bloody sweat of full arising throws; Approach his grief, and hear him thus complain, Through David's person, and in David's strain. "Oh, save me, God, thy floods about me roll, Thy wrath divine hath overflow'd my soul: I come at length where rising waters drown, And sink in deep affliction, deeply down. Deceitful snares, to bring me to the dead, Lie ready plac'd in every path I tread; And Hell itself, with all that Hell contains, Of fiends accurs'd, and dreadful change of pains; To daun firm will, and cross the good design'd, With strong temptations fasten on the mind;