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But thou, who own'st that earthly bed,
Yet lives there one, whose heedless eye
But thou, lorn stream, whose sullen tide
And see, the fairy valleys fade;
Dun night has veil'd the solemn view!
Yet once again, dear parted shade,
The genial meads assign'd to bless
Thy life, shall mourn thy early doom! Their hinds and shepherd girls shall dress, With simple hands, thy rural tomb.
Long, long thy stone and pointed clay
BY DR. COTTON.
Pereunt et Imputantur.
TO-MORROW, didst thou say?
Against thy plenty-who takes thy ready cash,
That gulls the easy creditor!-To-morrow!
It is a period no where to be found
In all the hoary registers of Time,
Wisdom disclaims the word, nor holds society
'Tis fancy's child, and folly is its father;
But soft, my friend-arrest the present moments; For be assured, they all are arrant tell-tales; And though their flight be silent, and their path Trackless, as the wing'd couriers of the air, They post to heaven, and there record thy folly. Because, though station'd on th' important watch, Thou, like a sleeping, faithless centinel, Didst let them pass unnoticed, unimproved. And know, for that thou slumber'dst on the guard, Thou shalt be made to answer at the bar
For every fugitive: and when thou thus
Of hoodwink'd Justice, who shall tell thy audit ?
Then stay the present instant, dear Horatio; Imprint the marks of wisdom on its wings.
"Tis of more worth than kingdoms! far more precious Than all the crimson treasures of life's fountain. Oh! let it not elude thy grasp, but like
The good old patriarch upon record,
Hold the fleet angel fast, until he bless thee.
THE BENEDICITE PARAPHRASED.
BY THE REV. MR. MERRICK.
YE works of God, on him alone,
In earth his footstool, heaven his throne,
Whose hand the beauteous fabric made,
Ye angels, that with loud acclaim
Praise him, ye blest ethereal plains,
Ye waters, that above him roll,
From orb to orb, from pole to pole,
Ye thrones, dominions, virtues, powers,
Celestial orb!-whose powerful ray
Whose influence all things own;
Praise him, whose courts effulgent shine
Ye glittering planets of the sky,
Ye showers and dews, whose moisture shed,
Calls into life the opening seed,
To him your praises yield;
Whose influence wakes the genial birth,
And crowns the laughing field.
Ye winds, that oft tempestuous sweep
With us confess your God;
See, through the heavens, the King of kings,
Ye floods of fire, where'er ye flow,
Who stops his tempest on its way,
Ye summer's heat, and winter's cold,
Praise him, who gave the sun and moon,
And guide the circling year.
Ye frosts, that bind the watery plain,
Pursue the heavenly theme;
Praise him, who sheds the driven snow,
And stops the rapid stream.