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His praise around, ye flow'ry tribes, exhale,
Far as your sweets embalm the spicy gale!
His praise, ye dimpled streams, to earth reveal,
As pleas'd ye murmur through the flow'ry vale!
His praise, ye feather'd choirs, distinguish'd sing,
As to your notes the vocal forests ring!
His praise proclaim, ye monsters of the deep,
Who in the vast abyss your revels keep!
Or ye, fair natives of our earthly scene,
Whorange the wilds, or haunt the pasture green!
Nor thou, vain lord of earth, with careless ear
The universal hymn of worship hear!
But ardent in the sacred chorus join,
Thy soul transported with the task divine!
While by his works th' Almighty is confess'd,
Supremely glorious, and supremely bless'd!
Great lord of life! from whom this humble
Derives the pow'r tosing thy holy name, [frame
Forgive the lowly Muse, whose artless lay
Has dar'd thy sacred Attributes survey!
Delighted oft thro' Nature's beauteous field
Has she ador'd thy wisdom bright reveal'd;
Oft have her wishes aim'd the secret song,
But awful rev'rence still withheld her tongue.
Yet as thy bounty lent the reas'ning beam,
As feels my conscious breast thy vital flame,
So, blest Creator, let thy servant pay
His mite of gratitude this feeble way;
Thy goodness own, thy Providence adore
And yield thee only what was thine before.
$51. The Day of Judgement: a Seatonian Prize Poem. By Dr. Glynn.
THY Justice, heav'nly king! and that great day,
When Virtue, long abandon'd and forlorn,
Shall raise her pensive head; and Vice, that erst
Rang'd unreprov'd and free, shall sink appall'd;
I sing advent rous But what eye can pierce
The vast imineasurable realms of space,
O'er which Messiah drives his flaming car
To that bright region, where enthron'd he sits,
First-born of Heav'n, to judge assembled worlds,
Cloth'd in celestial radiance? Can the Muse,
Her feeble wing all damp with earthly dew,
Soar to that bright empyreal, where around
Myriads of angels, God's perpetual choir,
Hymn hallelujahs, and in concert loud
Chant songs of triumph to their Maker's praise?—
Yet will I strive to sing, albeit unus'd'
To tread poetic soil. What though the wiles
Of Fancy me enchanted, ne'er could lure
To rove o'er fairy lands; to swim the streams
That through her valleys wave their mazy way;
Or climb her mountain tops; yet will I raise
My feeble voice to tell what harmony
(Sweet as the music of the rolling spheres)
Attunes the moral world: that Virtue still
May hope her promis'd crown; that Vicemaydread
Vengeance, though late; that reas'ning Pride may
Just, though unsearchable, the ways of Heav'n. Sceptic! who'ever thou art, who say'st the soul, That divine particle which God's own breath
Inspir'd into the mortal mass, shall rest
Annihilate, till Duration has unroll'd
Her never-ending line; tell, if thou know'st,
Why every nation, every clime, though all
In laws, in rites, in manners disagree,
With one consent expect another world,
Where wickedness shall weep? Why Paynim-
Fabled Elysian plains, Tartarian lakes, [bards,
Styx and Cocytus? Tell, why Hali's sons
Have feign'd a paradise of mirth and love,
Banquets, and blooming nymphs? or rather tell,
Why, on the brink of Orellana's stream,
Where never Science rear'd her sacred torch,
Th' untutor'd Indian dreams of happier worlds
Behind the cloud-topt hill? Why in each breast
Is plac'd a friendly monitor, that prompts,
Inforins, directs, encourages, forbids?
Tell, why on unknown evil grief attends,
Or joy on secret good? Why conscience acts
With tenfold force, when sickness, age, or pain
Stands tott'ring on the precipice of death?
Or why such horror gnaws the guilty soul
Of dying sinners, while the good man sleeps
Peaceful and calm, and with a smile expires?
Look round the world! with what a partial hand
The scale of bliss and mis'ry is sustain'd!
Beneath the shade of cold obscurity
Pale Virtue lies; no arm supports her head,
No friendly voice speaks comfort to her soul,
Nor soft-eyed Pity drops a melting tear;
But, in their stead, Contempt and rude Disdain
Insult the banish'd wanderer: on she goes,
Neglected and forlorn: Disease and Cold,
And Famine, worst of ills, her steps attend!
Yet patient, and to Heaven's just will resign'd,
She ne'er is seen to weep, or heard to sigh.
Now turn your eyestoyonsweet-smellingbow'r,
Where, flush'd with all the insolence of wealth,
Sits pamper'd Vice! For him th' Arabian gale
Breathes forth delicious odours; Gallia's hills
For him pour nectar from the purple vine.
Nor think for these he pays the tribute due
To Heav'n: of Heav'n he never names the name,
Save when with imprecations dark and dire
He points his jest obscene. Yet buxom Health
Sits on his rosy cheek; yet Honor gilds
His high exploits; and downy-pinion'd Sleep
Sheds a soft opiateo'er his peaceful couch. [this,
Seest thou this, righteous Father! seest thou And wilt thou ne'er repay? Shall good and ill Be carried undistinguish'd to the land Where all things are forgot? — Ah, no! the day Will come when Virtue from the cloud shall burst, That long obscur'd her beams, when Sin shall fly Back to her native Hell; there sink eclips'd In penal darkness; where no star shall rise, Nor ever sunshine pierce th' impervious gloom.
On that great day the solemn trump shall sound, (That trump which once in heav'n on man'srevolt Convok'd th' astonish'd seraphs) at whose voice The unpeopledgravesshallpourforthalltheir dead. Then shall th' assembled Nations of the Earth From ev'ry quarter at the judgement-seat Unite; Egyptians, Babylonians, Greeks,
Parthians; and they who dwelton Tyber's banks,
Names fam'd of old: or who of later age,
Chinese and Russian, Mexican and Turk,
Tenant the wild terrene; and they who pitch
Their tents on Niger's banks; or, where the sun
Pours on Golconda's spires his early light,
Drink Ganges' sacred stream. At once shall rise,
Whom distant ages to each others sight
Had long denied: before the throne shall kneel
Some great Progenitor, while at his side
Stand his descendants through a thousand lines.
Whate'er their nation, and whate'er their rank,
Heroes and patriarchs, slaves and sceptred kings,
With equal eye the God of all shall see,
And judge with equal love. What though the
With costly pomp and aromatic sweets [great
Embalin'd his poor remains; or through the dome
A thousand tapers shed their gloomy light,
While solenin organs to his parting soul
Chanted slow orisons? Say, by what mark
Dost thou discern hin from that lowly swain
Whose mould'ring bones beneath thethorn bound
Long lay neglected? All at once shall rise, [turf
But not to equal glory; for, alas!
With howlings dire, and execrations loud,
Some wail their fatal birth.-First among these
Behold the mighty murd'rers of mankind :
They who in sport whole kingdoms slew; or they
Who to the tott ring pinnacle of power [curse
Waded through seas of blood! How will they
The madness of ambition! how lament [wife
Their dear-bought laurels; when the widow'd
And childless mother at the judgement seat [they
Plead trumpet-tongu'd against them!-Here are
Who sunk an aged father to the grave;
Or with unkindness hard, and cold disdain,
Slighted a brother's suff'rings. Here are they
Whom fraud and skilful treachery long secur'd;
Who from the infant virgin tore her dow'r,
And ate the orphan's bread; who spent their
In selfish luxury; or o'er their gold [stores
Prostrate and pale ador'd the useless heap.
Here too who stain'd the chaste connubial bed!--
Who mix'd the pois'nous bowl; or broke the
Of hospitable friendship; -- and the wretch [tics
Whose listless soul, sick with the cares of life,
Unsuminon'd, to the presence of his God
Rush'd in with insult rude. How would they joy
Ouce more to visit earth, and, though oppress'd
With all that pain and famine can inflict,
Pant up the hill of life? Vain wish! the judge
Pronounces doom eternal on their heads,
Perpetual punishment. Seek not to know
What punishment! for that th' Almighty will
Has hid from mortal eyes and shall vain mau
With eurious search refin'd presume to pry
Into thy secrets, Father? No! let him
With humble patience all thy works adore,
And walk in all thy paths; so shall his meed
Be great in Heav'n, so haply shall he 'scape
To inmortal worm and never-ceasing fire.
But who are they, who bound in tenfold chains
Stand horribly aghast? This is that crew
Who strove to pull Jehovah from his throne,
And in the place of heaven's eternal King
Set up the phantom Chance. For them in vain
Alternate season's cheer'd the rolling year;
In vain the sun o'er herb, tree, fruit and flow'r
Shed genial influence mild; and the pale m
Repair'd her waning orb.-Next these is plac'd
The vile blasphemer; he whose impious wit
Profan'd the sacred mysteries of faith,
And 'gainst th' impenetrable walls of Heav'n
Planted his feeble battery. By these stands
The Arch-Apostate: he with many a wile
Exhorts them still to foul revolt. Alas!
No hope have they from black despair, no ray
Shines through the gloom to cheer their sinking
In agonies of grief they curse the hour
When first they left Religion's onward way.
These on the left are rang'd but on the right A chosen band appears, who fought beneath The banner of Jehovah, and defied Satan's united legions. Some, unmov'd At the grin tyrant's frown, o'er barb`rous climes Diffus'd the Gospel's light: some long immur'd (Sad servitude!) in chains and dungeons pin'd; Or, rack'd with all the agonies of pain, Breath'd out their faithful lives. Thrice happy Whom Heav'n elected to that glorious strife! Here are they plac'd, whose kind munificence Made heaven-born Science raise her drooping And on the labors of a future race Entail'd their just reward. Thou amongst these, Good Seaton! whose well-judg'd benevolence Fost'ring fair Genius, bade the poet's hand Bring annual off'rings to his Maker's shrine, Shalt find the generous care was not in vain.→→ Here is that fav'rite band, whom mercy mild, God's best-lov'd attribute, adorn'd; whose gate Stood ever open to the stranger's call; Who fed the hungry; to the thirsty lip Reach'd out the friendly cup; whose care benign From the rude blast secur'd the pilgrim's side; Who heard the widow's tender tale, and shook The galling shackle from the pris'ner's feet; Who each endearing tie, each office knew Of meek-eyed, heaven-descended Charity. O charity, thou nymph divinely fair! Sweeter than those whom antient poets bound In amity's indissoluble chain, The Graces! how shall I essay to paint Thy charms, celestial maid! and in rude verse Blazon those deeds thyself didst ne'er reveal? For thee nor rankling Envy can infect, Nor rage transport, nor high o'er weening Pride Puff up with vain conceit: ne'er didst thou To see the sinner as a verdant tree Spread his luxuriant branches o'er the stream; While, like soine blasted trunk, the righteous-fall Prostrate,fo:lorn. When prophecies shall fail, When tongues shall cease, when knowledge is
But can the Muse, her numbers all too weak,
Tell how that restless element of fire
Shall wage with seas and earth intestine war,
And deluge all creation? Whether (so
Some think) the comet, as through fields of air
Lawless he wanders, shall rush headlong on
Rolls in her wonted course; whether the sun
With force centripetal into his orb
Attract her, long reluctant; or the caves,
Those dead volcanos, where engend'ring lie
Sulphurcous minerals, from the dark abyss
Pour streams of liquid fire; while from above,
As erst on Sodom, Heaven's avenging hand
Rains fierce combustion. Where are now the
Of art, the toil of ages?-Where are now [works
Th' imperial cities, sepulchres and domes,
Trophies and pillars? Where is Egypt's boast,
Those lofty paramids, which high in air
Rear'd their aspiring heads, to distant times
Of Memphian's pride a lasting monument?—
Tell me where Athens rais'd her tow'rs? where
Open'd her hundred portals? Tell me where
Stood sea-girt Albion? where Imperial Rome,
Propt, by seven hills, sat like a scepired queen,
And aw'd the tributary world to peace?---
Show me the rampart which o'er many a hill,
Through many a valley, stretch'd its wide extent,
Rais'd by that mighty monarch to repel
The roving Tartar, wiren with insult rude
Gainst Perkin's tow'rs he bent th' unerring bow.
But what is mimic art? E'en Nature's work,
Seas, meadows, pastures, the meand'ring streams,
And everlasting hills, shall be no more.
No more shall Teneriff, cloud-piercing height!
O'er hang th' Atlantic surge; nor that fam'd cliff,
Thro, which the Persian steer'd with many a sail,
Throw to the Leunian isle its evening shade
O'er half the wide Egean. -
Where are now
The Alps that confin'd with unnumber'd realins,
And from the Black Sea to the ocean stream
Stretch'dtheir extended arms!--Where's Arrarat,
That hill on which the faithful patriarch's ark,
Which seven long months had voyag'd'o'er its top,
First rested, when the earth with all her sons,"
As now by streaming cataracts of fire,
Was whelur'd by mighty waters ?—All at once
Are vanish'd and dissolv'd; no trace remains,
No mark of vain distinction: heaven itself,
That azure vault, with all those radiant orbs,
Sinks in the universal ruin lost:
"Who died to saveus from thy righteous wrath; "And'midst the wreekofworlds rememberman!'
JEHOVAH reigns: let ev'ry nation hear,
And at his footstool bow with holy fear;
Let Heav'ns high arches echo with his name,
And the wide peopled earth his praiseproclaim;
Then send it down to hell's deep glooms re-
Thro' all her caves in dreadful murmurs sound-
He rules with wide and absolute command
O'er the broad ocean and the stedfast land ·
Jehovah reigns, unbounded and alone,
And all creation hangs beneath his throne:
He reigns alone; let no inferior nature
Usurp or share the throne of the Creator.
He saw the struggling beams of infant light
Shoot thro' the massy gloom of antient night;
His spirit hush'd the elemental strife,
And brooded o'er the kindling seeds of life :
Seasons and months began the long procession,
And measur'd o'er the year in bright succession.
The joyful sun sprung up th' ethereal way,
Strong as a giant, as a bridegroom gay;
And the pale moon diffus'd her shadowy light
Superior o'er the dusky brow of night; [ing,
Ten thousand glitt'ring lamps the skies adorn-
Numerous as dew-drops from the womb of
Earth's blooming face with rising flow'rs he
No more shall planets round their central sun
Move in harmonious dance; no more the moon
Hang out her silver lamp; and those fix'd stars,
Spangling the golden canopy of night,
Which oft the Tuscan with his optic glass
Call'd from their wondrous height, to read their
And magnitude, some winged minister [names
Shall quench; and (surest sign that all on earth
Is lost) shall rend from heaven the mystic bow.
Such is that awful, that tremendous day,
Whose coming who shall tell? For as a thief
Unheard, unseen, it steal, with silent page [I sit,The morning stars, with joyful acclamation,
Exulting sung, and haild the new creation.
and spread a verdant mantle o'er her breast;
Then from the hollow of his hand he pours
The circling waters round her winding shores, The new-born world in their cool arms emembracing,
Through night's dark gloom-Penaps as here
And with soft murmurs still her banks caressing.
At length she rose complete in finish'd pride,
All fair and spotless, like a virgin bride:
Fresh with untarnish'd lustre as she stood,
Her Maker bless'd his work, and call'dit good,
Should thine alter'd hand restrain
The early and the latter rain;
Blast each op'ning bud of joy,
And the rising year destroy;
Yet to thee my soul should raise
Grateful vows, and solemn praise;
And, when ev'ry blessing's flown,
The sun himself, with weary clouds opprest,Love thee-for thyself alone.
Shall in his silent, dark pavilion rest:
His golden urn shall broke and useless lie,
Amidst the common ruins of the sky!
The stars rush headlong in the wild commotion,
And bathe their glitt'ring foreheads in the ocean.
But fix'd, O God! for ever stands thy throne;
Jehovah reigns, a universe alone;
Th' eternal fire that feeds cach vital flame,
Collected or diffus'd is still the same.
He dwells within his own unfathom'd essence,
And fills all space with his unbounded presence,
But oh! our highest notes the theme debase,
And silence is our least injurious praise: [trol,
Cease, cease your songs, the daring flight con-
Revere him in the stillness of the soul;
With silent duty meekly bend before him,
And deep within your inmost hearts adore him.
PRAISE to God, immortal praise*,
For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous source of every joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employ;
For the blessings of the field,
For the stores the gardens yield,
For the vine's exalted juice,
For the gen'rous olive's use;
Flocks that whiten all the plain,
Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grain,
Clouds that drop their fatt'ning dews,
Suns that temp'rate warmth diffuse;
All that Spring with bounteous hand
Scatters o'er the smiling land;
All that lib'ral Autumn pours
From her rich o'er flowing stores:
These to thee, my God, we owe,
Source whence all our blessings flow;
And for these my soul shall raise.
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
Yet, should rising whirlwinds tear
From its stem the rip'ning ear;
Should the fig-tree's blasted shoot
Drop her green untimely fruit;
Should the yine put forth no more,
Nasthe olive yield her store;
Though the sick'ning flocks should fall,
And the herds desert the stall;
AGAIN the Lord of life and light
Awakes the kindling ray;
Unseals the eyelids of the morn,
And pours increasing day.
O what a night was that which wrapt
The heathen world in gloom!
O what a sun which broke this day,
Triumphant from the tomb!
This day be grateful homage paid,
And foud hosannas sung;
Let gladness dwell in ev'ry heart,
And praise on ev'ry tongue.
Ten thousand diff'ring lips shall join
To hail this welcome morn;
Which scatters blessings from its wings
To nations yet unborn.
Jesus, the friend of human kind,
With strong compassion mov'd,
Descended, like a pitying God,
To save the souls he lov'd.
The pow'rs of darkness leagu'd in vain
To bind his soul in death;
He shook their kingdom, when he fell,
With his expiring breath.
Not long the toils of hell could keep
The hope of Judah's line
Corruption never could take hold
On ought so much divine.
And now his conqu'ring chariot wheels
Ascend the lofty skies;
While broke, beneath his pow'rful cross,
Death's iron sceptre lies.
Exalted high at God's right hand,
And Lord of all below,
Thro' him is pard'ning love dispens'd,
And boundless blessings flow.
And still for erring, guilty man
A brother's pity flows;
And still his bleeding heart is touch'd
With men'ry of our woes.
To thee, my Saviour and my King,
Glad homage let me give;
And stand prepar'd, like thee to die,
With thee that I may live.
Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines, the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat, the focks shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be to herd in the, talls; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.
Bless'd is the man whose softning heart "Feels all another's pain:
To whom the supplicating eye
Was never rais'd in vain;
"Whose breast expands with gen'rous warmth
"A stranger's woes to feel :
"And bleeds in pity o'er the wound.
"He wants the pow'r to heal.
He spreads his kind supporting arms
To ev'ry child of grief';
"His secret bounty largely flows,
“And brings uñask'd relief.
"To gentle offices of love
"His feet are never slow;
"He views, thro' mercy's melting eye,
"A brother in a foe.
"Peace from the bosom of his God,
"My peace to him I give!
"And when he kneels before the throne,
"His trembling soul shall live.
"To him protection shall be shown,
"And mercy from above
"Descend on those who thus fulfil
"The perfect law of love."
AWAKE, my soul! lift up thine eyes,
See where thy fous against thee rise,
In long array, a num'rous host;
Awake, my soul, or thou art lost.
Here giant Danger threat'ning stands
Must'ring his pale terrific bands ;
There Pleasure's silken banners spread,
And willing souls are captive led.
See where rebellious passions rage,
And fierce desires and lusts engage;
The meanest foe of all the train
Has thousands and ten thousand slain.
Thon trend'st upon enchanted ground,
Perils and spares beset thee round;
Beware of all, guard ev'ry part,
But most the traitor in thy heart.
Come then, my soul, now learn to wield
The weight of the immortal shield;
the armor from above
Of heav'nly truth and heav'nly love.
The terror and the charm repel,
And pow'rs of earth, and pow'rs of hell
The man of Calvary triumph'd here;
Why should his faithful followers fear?
But soon, alas! this holy calm is broke; My soul submits to wear her wonted yoke ; With shackled pinions strives to soar in vain, And mingles with the dross of earth again. But he, our gracious Master, kind as just, Knowing our frame, remembers man is dust. His spirit, ever brooding o'er our mind, Sees the first wish to better hopes inclin'd; Marks the young dawn of ev'ry virtuous aim, And fans the smoaking flax into a flame His ears are open to the softest ery, His grace descends to meet the lifted eye; He reads the language of a silent tear, And sighs are incense from a heart sincere. Such are the vows, the sacrifice I give : Accept the vow, and bid the suppliant live. Froni cach terrestrial bondage set me free; Still ev'ry wish that centres not in thee; Bid fond hopes, my vain disquiets cease, And point my path to everlasting peace. If the soft hand of winning pleasure leads By living waters, and thro' flow'ry meads, When all is smiling, tranquil and serene, And vernal beauty paints the flatt'ring scene, Oh! teach me to elude cach latent snare, And whisper to my sliding heart - Beware! With caution let me hear the Syren's voice, And doubtful, with a trembling heart rejoice. If friendless in a vale of tears I stray, [way, Where briers wound, and thorns perplex my Still let my steady soul thy goodness sce, And with strong confidence, lay hold on thee; With equal eye my various lot receive, Resign'd to die, or resolute to live; Prepar'd to kiss the sceptre or the rod, While God is seen in all, and all iu God. I read his awful name emblazon'd high With golden letters on th' illumin'd sky.