Chain'd to his throne a volume lies,

With all the fates of men,
With every angel's form and fize,
Drawn by th' eternal pen.

His providence unfolds the book,
And makes his counfels fhine:
Each opening leaf, and every ftroke,
Fulfils fome deep defign.

Here he exalts neglected worms
To fceptres and a crown;
Anon the following page he turns,
And treads the monarch down.

Not Gabriel afks the reason why,
Nor God the reafon gives;
Nor dares the favourite-angel pry
Between the folded leaves.

My God, I never long'd to fee
My fate with curious eyes,
What gloomy lines are writ for me,
Or what bright scenes fhall rife.

In thy fair book of life and grace
May I but find my name,"
Recorded in fome humble place
Beneath my Lord the Lamb!

SELF

SELF-CONSECRATION.

IT grieves me, Lord, it grieves me sore,

That I have liv'd to thee no more,
And wafted half my days;

My inward power shall burn and flame
With zeal and paffion for thy name,

I would not speak, but for my God, nor move, but to his praise.

What are my eyes but aids to fee

The glories of the Deity

Infcrib'd with beams of light

On flowers and ftars? Lord, I behold

The shining azure, green and gold;

But when I try to read thy name, a dimness veils my fight.

Mine ears are rais'd when Virgil fings
Sicilian fwains, or Trojan kings,

And drink the mufic in :

Why should the trumpet's brazen voice,

Or oaten reed, awake my joys,

And yet my heart fo ftupid lie when facred hymns begin?

Change me, O God; my flefh fhall be

An inftrument of fong to thee,

And thou the notes inspire:

My tongue fhall keep the heavenly chime,
My chearful pulse shall beat the time,

And sweet variety of found fhall in thy praise conspire.

E

The

The dearest nerve about my heart,
Should it refuse to bear a part,
With my melodious breath,
I'd tear away the vital chord,

A bloody victim to my Lord,

And live without that impious ftring, or fhew

in death.

THE CREATOR AND CREATURES.

OD is a name my foul adores,

Go

Th' Almighty Three, th' Eternal One;
Nature and grace, with all their powers,
Confefs the Infinite Unknown.

From thy Great Self thy being fprings;
Thou art thine own original,

Made

up

of uncreated things,

And Self-fufficience bears them all.

Thy Voice produc'd the feas and fpheres,
Bid the waves roar, and planets shine ;
But nothing like thy Self

appears, Through all these spacious works of thine.

Still reftlefs Nature dies and grows;
From change to change the creatures run :
Thy being no fucceffion knows,

And all thy vaft defigns are one:

2

A glance

A glance of thine runs through the globes,
Rules the bright worlds, and moves their frame;
Broad fheets of light compofe thy robes;
Thy guards are form'd of living flame.

Thrones and dominions round thee fall,
And worship in fubmiffive forms;
Thy prefence shakes this lower ball,
This little dwelling-place of worms.

How fhall affrighted mortals dare
To fing thy glory or thy grace,
Beneath thy feet we lie fo far,
And fee but fhadows of thy face?

Who can behold the blazing light ?
Who can approach confuming flame?
None but thy wisdom knows thy might ;
None but thy word can speak thy name.

THE NATIVITY OF CHRIST.

SHEPHERDS, rejoice, lift up your eyes,
"And fend your fears away;

"News from the region of the skies,
"Salvation's born to-day.

"Jefus, the God whom Angels fear,

"Comes down to dwell with you;
"To-day he makes his entrance here,

"But not as monarchs do.
E 2

"No

"No gold, nor purple fwaddling-bands,

"Nor royal fhining things; "A manger for his cradle stands,

"And holds the King of kings.

"Go, Shepherds, where the Infant lies,
"And fee his humble throne ;
"With tears of joy in all your eyes,
“Go, Shepherds, kiss the Son.”

Thus Gabriel fang, and ftrait around
The heavenly armies throng,
They tune their harps to lofty found,
And thus conclude the fong:

"Glory to God that reigns above,

"Let peace furround the earth;
"Mortals fhall know their Maker's love,
"At their Redeemer's birth."

Lord! and fhall angels have their fongs,
And men no tunes to raise ?
O may we lose these useless tongues
When they forget to praise !

Glory to God that reigns above,

That pitied us forlorn,

We join to fing our Maker's love,

For there's a Saviour born.

GOD