XII. Ye days and nights, that swiftly borne From morn to eve, from eve to morn, Alternate glide away; Praise him, whose never varying light, But present, gives the day. XIII. Light-from whose rays all beauty springs : Praise him, who, when the heavens he spread, XIV. Praise him, ye lightnings, as ye fly, Wing'd with his vengeance through the sky, And red with wrath divine; Praise him, ye clouds, that wandering stray, Or, fix'd by him in close array, Surround his awful shrine. XXV. Exalt, O earth! thy heavenly King, Who bids the plants, that form the spring, With annual verdure bloom; Whose frequent drops of kindly rain, And bless thy fertile womb. XVI. Ye mountains, that ambitious rise, And heave your summits to the skies, Think how ye once affrighted fled, XVII. Ye trees, that fill the rural scene, Ye flowers, that o'er th' enamell'd green, In native beauty reign, O! praise the ruler of the skies, Whose hand the genial sap supplies, XVIII. Ye secret springs, ye gentle rills, Praise him, at whose almighty nod XIX. Praise him, ye floods, and seas profound, XX Ye whales, that stir the boiling deep, Remote from human eye; Praise him, by whom y -ye all are fed, Praise him, without whose heavenly aid, Ye languish, faint, and die. XXI. Ye birds, exalt your Maker's name, Begin, and with th' important theme Wake with your songs the rising day, And fill the vocal grove. XXII. Praise him, ye beasts, that nightly roam Th' expected prey to seize; XXIII. Ye sons of men, his praise display, Ye, that in Judah's confines dwell, The wonders of his love. XXIV. Let Levi's tribe the lay prolong, Till angels listen to the song, And bend attentive down; Let wonder seize the heavenly train, Pleased, while they hear a mortal strain, So sweet, so like their own. XXV. And you, your thankful voices join, Where, throned in majesty he dwells, And from the mystic cloud reveals The dictates of his will. XXVI. Ye spirits of the just and good, To heavenly mansions soar; XXVII. Praise him, ye meek and humble train, And reign for ever there. XXVIII. Let us, who now impassive stand, Awed by the tyrant's stern command, Amid the fiery blaze; While thus we triumph in the flame, Rise, and our Maker's love proclaim, In hymns of endless praise. THE SPLENDID SHILLING. BY JOHN PHILLIPS. 26 Sing, heavenly Muse! Things unattempted yet, in prose or rhyme;" HAPPY the man, who, void of cares and strife, In silken or in leathern purse, retains A Splendid Shilling; he nor hears with pain * Two Ale-houses. |