Imatges de pÓgina

Affifting angels clapp'd their wings,
And founded grace on all their ftrings.
The emulation round the throne
Made proftrate hofts (who ev'ry one
The humbleft place the right avow)
Strive who should give the lowest bow.
The next contention without vice
Among the birds of paradife,
Made every glorious warbling throat
Strive who should raise the highest note.
Thus in fweet holy humble ftrife,
Along their endless, joyful life,
Of Jefus all the harpers rove,
And fing the wonders of his love.
Their difcord makes them all unite
In raptures moft divinely fweet;
So great the fong, so
the fong, fo grave the bafs,
Melodious mufic fills the place.




Earth defpicable, Heaven defirable.

'Here's nothing round the fpacious earth To fuit my vast defires;

To more refin'd and folid mirth

My boundless thought afpires.

Fain would I leave this mournful place,
This mufic dull, where none
But heavy notes have any grace,
And mirth accents the moan.
Where trouble tread upon reliefs,
New woes with older blend ;
Where rolling ftorms and circling griefs
Run round without an end:

Where waters wrestling with the ftones,
Do fight themfelves to foam,

And hollow clouds with thund'ring groans
Difcharge their pregnant womb:
Where eagles mounting meet with rubs
That dafh them from the fky:
And cedars, fhrinking into fhrubs,
In ruin proftrate lie :

Where, fin the author of turmoils,
The cause of death and hell,
The one thing foul that all things foils,
Does most befriended dwell.
The purchaser of night and woe,
The forfeiture of day,

The debt that ev'ry man did owe,
But only God could pay.
Bewitching ill, indors'd with hope,
Subfcribed with despair :

Ugly in death when eyes are ope,
Though life may paint it fair.
Small wonder that I droop alone
In fuch a doleful place:
When lo, my dearest friend is gone,
My father hides his face.
And though in words I feem to show
The fawning poet's ftile,

Yet is my plaint no feigned woe;
I languish in exile.

I long to fhare the happiness

Of that triumphant throng,

That fwim in seas of boundless blifs
Eternity along.

When but in drops here by the way
Free love diftils itself,

I pour connpt on hills of prey,
And hea of wordly pelf.
To be amit my little joys,
Thronespeptres, crowns, and kings,
Are nothinelfe but little toys,

And deffable things.

Down withifdain earth's pomp I thruft, Bid tempng wealth away:

Heav'n is nomade of yellow duft,

Nor blifs glittring clay.
Sweet was te hour I freedom felt
To call m Jefus mine;
To fee his filing face, and melt
In pleafues all divine.

Let fools a beav'n of fhades purfue,
But I fo fubstance am ;
The heav' I feek is likeness to,
And vion of the Lamb:

The worhy lamb with glory crown'd
In hisaugust abode ;

Inthron' fublime, and deck'd around
With all the pomp of God.
I long to join the faints above,
Who, crown'd with glorious bays,
Through radiant files of angels move,
And rival them in praife;
In praise to JAH, the God of love,
The fair incarnate Son,

The holy co-eternal Dove,

The good, the great Three-ond
In hope to fing without a fob,

The anthem ever new,
I gladly bid the dusty globe,
And yain delights, Adieu.

The following POEM, the fecomart of which was wrote by Mr. ERSKINE, lere inserted, as a proper subject of Meditati to smokers of Tobacco.


The first Part being an old Mitation upon fmoking Tobacco; and the cond, a new Addition to it, or Improveent of it.



HIS Indian weed now withe'd quite,
Though green at noon, cut own at night,
Shows thy decay ;

All flesh is hay.

Thus think, and smoke tobaco.

The pipe, fo lily-like and weak,
Does thus thy mortal ftate bespeak.

Thou art ev'n fuch,

Gone with a touch.

Thus think, and fmoke tobacco.

And when the smoke afcends on high,
Then thou behold'ft the vanity
Of worldly stuff,

Gone with a puff.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy foul defil'd with fin ;

For then the fire

It does require.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

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And feeft the afhes caft away;
Then to thyself thou mayeft say,
That to the duft

Return thou must.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

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AS this small plant for thee cut down?.

W So was the Plant of great renown;

Which mercy fends

For nobler ends.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

Doth juice medicinal proceed
From fuch a naughty foreign weed?
Then what's the pow'r

Of Jeffe's flow'r?

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The promise, like the pipe, inlays,
And by the mouth of faith convey's
What virtue flows

From Sharon's Rose.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

In vain the unlighted pipe you blow;
Your pains in outward means are fo.
Till heav'nly fire

Your heart infpire.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The smoke, like burning incense, tow'rs;
So thould a praying heart of yours
With ardent cries

Surmount the skies.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

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