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He shed a thousand blessings round
Where'er he turn'd his eye;

He spoke, and at the sovereign sound
The hellish legions fly.

Thus while, with unambitious strife,
The ethereal minstrels rove
Through all the labours of his life,
And wonders of his love,

In the full choir a broken string
Groans with a strange surprise;
The rest in silence mourn their King,
That bleeds, and loves, and dies.

Seraph and saint, with drooping wings,
Cease their harmonious breath;
No blooming trees, nor bubbling springs,
While Jesus sleeps in death.

Then all at once to living strains

They summon every chord,

Break up the tomb, and burst his chains, And show their rising Lord.

Around the flaming army throngs
To guard him to the skies,
With loud hosannas on their tongues,

And triumph in their eyes.

In awful state the conquering God
Ascends his shining throne,

While tuneful angels sound abroad
The victories he has won.

Now let me rise, and join their song,

And be an angel too;

My heart, my hand, my ear, my tongue, Here's joyful work for you.

I would begin the music here,
And so my soul should rise;

Oh! for some heavenly notes to bear
My spirit to the skies!

There, ye that love my Saviour, sit, There I would fain have place, Amongst your thrones, or at your feet, So I might see his face.

I am confin'd to earth no more,
But mount in haste above,
To bless the God that I adore,

And sing the Man I love.

FIRE, AIR, EARTH, AND SEA, PRAISE YE THE LORD.

EARTH, thou great footstool of our God,
Who reigns on high; thou fruitful source
Of all our raiment, life, and food;

Our house, our parent, and our nurse;
Mighty stage of mortal scenes,
Drest with strong and gay machines,
Hung with golden lamps around,
(And flowery carpets spread the ground,)
Thou bulky globe, prodigious mass,
That hangs unpillar'd in an empty space,
While thy unwieldy weight rests on the feeble air
Bless that Almighty Word that fix'd and holds
thee there.

Fire, thou swift herald of his face,
Whose glorious rage, at his command,

Levels a palace with the sand,

Blending the lofty spires in ruin with the base;
Ye heavenly flames, that singe the air,
Artillery of a jealous God,

Bright arrows that his sounding quivers bear
To scatter deaths abroad;

Lightnings, adore the sovereign arm that flings His vengeance, and your fires, upon the heads of kings.

Thou vital element, the air,

Whose boundless magazines of breath

Our fainting flame of life repair,

And save the bubble, man, from the cold arms of death;

And

ye, whose vital moisture yields

Life's purple stream a fresh supply,

Sweet waters, wand'ring through the flowery fields, Or dropping from the sky;

Confess the Power whose all-sufficient name Nor needs your aid to build, or to support our frame.

Now the rude air, with noisy force,
Beats up and swells the angry sea;

They join to make our lives a prey,

And sweep the sailors' hopes away

Vain hopes, to reach their kindred on the shores! Lo, the wild seas and surging waves

Gape hideous in a thousand graves:

Be still, ye floods, and know your bounds of sand, Ye storms, adore your Master's hand;

The winds are in his fist, the waves at his command

From the eternal emptiness

His fruitful word, by secret springs,

Drew the whole harmony of things
That form this noble universe:

Old Nothing knew his powerful hand:
Scarce had he spoke his full command,

Fire, air, and earth, and sea heard the creating call, And leap'd from empty nothing to this beauteous all;

And still they dance, and still obey

The orders they receiv'd the great creation-day.

THE FAREWELL.

DEAD be my heart to all below,
To mortal joys and mortal cares ;
To sensual bliss that charms us so,
Be dark, my eyes, and deaf, my ears.

Here I renounce my carnal taste
Of the fair fruit that sinners prize;
Their paradise shall never waste
One thought of mine, but to despise.

All earthly joys are overweigh'd
With mountains of vexatious care;
And where's the sweet that is not laid
A bait to some destructive snare?

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