Nor useless wafte this moral night,
Like common hours, away;

But glow with wisdom's facred light,
More fair than orient day.
Warn'd by each flash, may virtue rise,
And with its glories fpread,
While every blafted bud of vice

Shrinks in new terrors dead.
So on that awful judgment day,
Whose image shakes the soul,
Tho' keeneft lightenings fhoot their ray,

And loudeft thunders roll;

Well pleas'd, O Lord, each eye fhall fee
Those final thunders hurl'd,

And mark with joy, for love of thee,
That flash which melts the world.

A

A HY M N,

OCCASIONED BY THE SIXTY-FIFTH PSALM.

L

BY J. S.

ET praise to that almighty fovereign rife,

Who fix'd the mountains, and who spread the Who o'er his works extends paternal care; [fkies; Whose kind protection all the nations fhare: From the glad climes, whence morn in beauty dreft, Forth goes, rejoicing, to the fartheft weft; On him alone their whole dependence lies, And his rich mercy every want fupplies. O thou great author of th' extended whole! Revolving seasons praise thee as they roll : By thee fpring, fummer, autumn, winter, rife; Thou giv'ft the frowning, thou the smiling skies: By thy command the foftening fhower diftills, Till genial warmth the teeming furrow fills; Then fav'ring fun-fhine o'er the clime extends, And bleft by thee, the verdant blade afcends; Next fpring's gay products cloath the flowery hills, And joy the wood, and joy the valley fills; Then foon thy bounty fwells the golden ear, And bids the harveft crown the fruitful year: Thus all thy works confpicuous worship raise, And nature's face proclaims her maker's praife.

HYMN. FROM PSALM VIII.

BY THE SAME.

Lmighty power! amazing are thy ways; Above our knowledge, and above our praise! How all thy works thy excellence difplay! How fair, how great, how wonderful are they! Thy hand yon wide-extended heaven uprais'd, Yon wide-extended heaven with stars emblaz❜d, Where each bright orb, fince time his course begun, Has roll'd a mighty world, or fhin'd a fun : Stupendous thought! how finks all human race! A point, an atom, in the field of space! Yet even to us, O Lord, thy care extends, Thy bounty feeds us, and thy power defends; Yet even to us, as delegates of thee, Thou giv'ft dominion over land and sea; Whate'er or walks on earth, or flits in air; Whate'er of life the watery regions bear; All these are ours, and for th' extensive claim, We owe due homage to thy facred name! Almighty power! how wond'rous are thy ways! How far above our knowledge and our praise!

TRUST

TRUST IN GOD.

А РОЕМ.

BY PETER PINNELL, M. A.

Why art thou fo full of heaviness, O my foul, and why

art thou difquieted within me. —

-PUT THY TRUST IN GOD. Pf. XLII. 6, 7.

W

[figh?

HY droops the head, why languishes the eye? What mean the flowing tear, and frequent Where are the lenient med'cines to impart Their balmy virtue to a bleeding heart? Fruitless are all attempts for kind relief To mix her cordial, and allay my grief; So ftrong my anguish, fo fevere my pain, Weak is philofophy, and reafon vain :

Such rules, like fuel, make my paffion glow,
Quicken each pang, and point the fting of woe:
Imagination labours but in vain,

While darkening clouds intoxicate the brain:
Fancy no sweet ideas can suggest,
To lull the raging tumult in my breaft;
In vain or mirth invites, or friendship calls,
Wit dies a jeft, and converfation palls;
Nature and art supply fresh springs of care,
And each obtruding thought creates despair;

No fcenes amufe me, that amus'd before,
And what delighted once, delights no more:
Tho' all creation beautiful appears,

And nature's afpect a rich verdure wears;
Yet ftill her bloom with fickening eyes I fee,
And all her luxury is loft on me:

The budding plants of variegated hue,

The bloffoms opening with the morning dew;
The vernal breeze that gently fans the bowers,
The laughing meadows, and enlivening showers,
Th' enamell'd garden, where the works of art
Give ftrength to nature, and fresh charms impart;
Where gaudy pinks, and blushing roses bloom,
Rich in array, and pregnant with perfume;
Where Flora, fmiling, fees her offspring vie
To fpread their beauties, and regale the eye:
All, all, in vain, with charms united glow
To deck the scene, or gild the face of woe:
So when the morning lark afcending fings,
While joy attunes his voice, and mounts his wings;
Tho' to his cheerful notes the hills reply,
And warbling mufic gladdens all the sky;
Still in his ftrains no pleafing charms I find,
No fweet enchantment to compofe my mind.
In vain the fun his gaudy pride displays,
No genial warmth attends his brightest rays;
And when his abfent light the moon fupplies,
Or planets glitter to enrich the skies,

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