Lo, the Norwegians near the polar sky
Chafe their frozen fimbs with fnow,
Their frozen limbs awake and glow,

The vital flame touch'd with a strange supply
Rekindles, for the God of life is nigh;

He bids the vital flood in wonted circles flow.
Cold fteel, expos'd to northern air,

Drinks the meridian fury of the midnight Bear,
And burns th' unwary ftranger there.

Enquire, my foul, of ancient fame,

Look back two thousand years, and fee
Th' Affyrian prince transform'd a brute,
For boafting to be absolute :

Once to his court the God of Ifrael came,
A King more abfolute than he.

I fee the furnace blaze with rage
Sevenfold: I fee amidst the flame

Three Hebrews of immortal name:

They move, they walk across the burning stage
Unhurt, and fearlefs, while the tyrant flood
A ftatue; fear congeal'd his blood:
Nor did the raging element dare
Attempt their garments, or their hair:

It knew the Lord of nature there.

Nature, compell'd by a fuperior cause,
Now breaks her own eternal laws,
Now feems to break them, and obeys
Her fovereign king in different ways.
Father, how bright thy glories fhine!

How broad thy kingdom, how divine!

Nature, and miracle, and fate, and chance, are thine.

Hence

Hence from my heart, ye idols, flee,
Ye founding names of vanity !
No more my lips fhall facrifice

To chance and nature, tales and lies :
Creatures without a God can yield me no fupplies.
What is the fun, or what the fhade,
Or frofts, or flames, to kill or fave?
His favour is my life, his lips pronounce me dead;
And as his awful dictates bid,
Earth is ny mother, or my grave.

CONDESCENDING GRACE.

In Imitation of the cxivth Pfalm.

WHEN the Eternal bows the skies,

To visit earthly things,

With fcorn divine he turns his eyes

From towers of haughty kings;

Rides on a cloud disdainful by.
A Sultan, or a Czar,

Laughs at the worms that rife fo high,
Or frowns them from afar;

He bids his awful chariot roll
Far downward from the fkies,

To vifit every humble foul,
With pleasure in his eyes.

Why fhould the Lord that reigns above
Difdain fo lofty kings?

Say, Lord, and why fuch looks of love

Upon fuch worthless things?

Mortals, be dumb; what creature dares

Dispute his awful will ?

Afk no account of his affairs,
But tremble, and be still.

Just like his nature is his grace,
All fovereign, and all free;

Great God, how fearchlefs are thy ways!
How deep thy judgments be!

THE INFINIT E.

OME feraph, lend your heavenly tongue,
Or harp of golden ftring,

That I may raife a lofty song
To our Eternal King.

Thy names, how infinite they be!
Great Everlasting One!
Boundless thy might and majefty,
And unconfin'd thy throne.

Thy glories fhine of wondrous fize,
And wondrous large thy grace;
Immortal day breaks from thine eyes,
And Gabriel veils his face.

Thine effence is a vast abyss,

Which angels cannot found,

An ocean of infinities

Where all our thoughts are drown'd.

The

The mysteries of creation lie

Beneath enlighten'd minds,

Thoughts can afcend above the sky,

And fly before the winds.

Reafon may grafp the maffy hills,
And ftretch from pole to pole,
But half thy name our spirit fills,
And overloads our foul.

In vain our haughty reason fwells,
For nothing's found in Thee
But boundless unconceivables,
And vaft eternity.

CONFESSION AND PARDON.

ALAS, my aking heart!

Here the keen torment lies;

It racks my waking hours with smart,
And frights my flumbering eyes.

Guilt will be hid no more,
My griefs take vent apace,

The crimes that blot my confcience o'er
Flush crimson in my face.

My forrows, like a flood,
Impatient of restraint,
Into thy bofom, O my God,

Pour out a long complaint.

This impious heart of mine

Could once defy the Lord, Could rush with violence on to fin,

In prefence of thy fword.

How often have I ftood

A rebel to the skies,

The calls, the tenders of a God,
And mercy's loudest cries!

He offers all his grace,

And all his heaven to me; Offers! but 'tis to fenfelefs brass, That cannot feel nor fee.

Jefus the Saviour stands

To court me from above,

And looks and spreads his wounded hands,
And fhews the prints of love.

But I, a ftupid fool,

How long have I withstood

The bleffings purchas'd with his foul,

And paid for all in blood!

The heavenly Dove came down
And tender'd me his wings
To mount me upward to a crown,
And bright immortal things.

Lord, I'm afham'd to fay
That I refus'd thy Dove,
And fent thy Spirit griev'd away,

To his own realms of love.

Not