Slave to no sect, who takes no private road,

But looks through nature up to nature's God;.

Pursues that chain which links the immense design,

Joins heaven and earth, and mortal and divine;

Sees that no being any bliss can know,

But touches some above, and some below;

Learns from this union of the rising whole,

The first, last purpose of the human soul:

And knows where faith, law, morals, all began,

All end, in love of God and love of

[From An Essay on Criticism.]
WIT.

TRUE wit is nature to advantage dressed;

What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed:

Something, whose truth, convinced at sight we find,

That gives us back the image of our mind.

As shades more sweetly recommend the light,

So modest plainness sets off sprightly For works may have more wit than wit. does them good,

As bodies perish through excess of blood.

THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER.

FATHER of all! in every age,

In every clime adored,

By saint, by savage, and by sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou great First Cause, least understood,

Who all my sense confined

Let not this weak, unknowing hand
Presume thy bolts to throw,
And deal damnation round the land
On each I judge Thy foe.

If I am right, Thy grace impart
Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, oh, teach my heart
To find that better way!

And that myself am blind;

Yet gave me, in this dark estate, To see the good from ill;

And binding nature fast in fate. Left free the human will.

What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do,

Or impious discontent,

At aught Thy wisdom has denied,

Or aught Thy goodness lent.

Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I see:
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.

shun,

That, more than heaven pursue.

What blessings Thy free bounty

gives,

Let me not cast away;

Since quickened by Thy breath; Oh, lead me wheresoe'er I go, Through this day's life or death!

This day, be bread and peace my lot: All else beneath the sun,

Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think Thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round.

And let Thy will be done.

To Thee, whose temple is all spaee,
Whose altar, earth, sea, skies!
One chorus let all Being raise!
All Nature's incense rise!

NATURE'S LESSON.

PAIN is no longer pain when it is past;

And what is all the mirth of yesterday,

More than the yester flush that paled away,

Leaving no trace across the landscape

cast

Whereby to prove its presence

there? The blast

THE SHADOW.

its sway,

thyst

There'll come a day when all the aspiration,

Now with such fervor fraught, As lifts to heights of breathless exaltation,

Will seem a thing of naught.

There'll come a day when riches, honor, glory, Music and song and art,

grief

story, Where each has played his part.

IT is enough: I feel, this golden