66 the beast and his image, when the natives of heaven shall join in concert with prophets and faints, and fing to their golden harps falvation, honour and glory to "Him that fits upon the throne, and to the Lamb for "ever." May 14, 1709. HORE HORE LYRICÆ. BOOK I Sacred to DEVOTION and PIETY. WORSHIPPING WITH FEAR. WHO dares attempt th' eternal Name, With notes of mortal found? Dangers and glories guard the theme, Destruction waits t' obey his frown, Celestial king, our fpirits lie, Trembling beneath thy feet, And wish, and cast a longing eye, To reach thy lofty seat. When fhall we fee the Great Unknown, And in thy prefence stand? In thee what endless wonders meet! Angels are loft in fweet furprize And humble awe runs through the skies, When mercy joins with majesty Thy works the strongest seraph fings And labours hard on all his ftrings Created powers, how weak they be ! ASK ASKING LEAVE TO SING. YET, ET, mighty God, indulge my tongue, Whilst the young notes and venturous fong If thou my daring flight forbid, Her flender reed, inspir'd by thee, With blooming life on every tree, She mocks the trumpet's loud alarms, But when the taftes her Saviour's love, Aims at a sweeter fong. DIVINE] DIVINE JUDGMENTS. NOT from the dust my forrows spring, Nor drop my comforts from the lower fkies! Their mingled curfes on my head, How vain their curfes, if th' Eternal King Are but his flaves, and must obey; 'Tis by a warrant from his hand The gentler gales are bound to fleep : Old Boreas with his freezing powers And chains them moveless to their fhores; The grazing ox lows to the gelid skies, Walks o'er the marble meads with withering eyes, Walks o'er the folid lakes, fnuffs up the wind, and dies. Fly to the polar world, my fong, And mourn the pilgrims there, (a wretched throng!) A troop of ftatues on the Ruffian plains, God |