Thine is the balmy breath of morn,
Just as the dew-bent rose is born;
And while meridian fervors beat,
Thine is the woodland dumb retreat;
But chief, when evening scenes decay,
And the faint landscape swims away,
Thine is the doubtful soft decline,
And that best hour of musing thine.
Descending angels bless thy train, The virtues of the sage, and swain; Plain Innocence in white array'd Before thee lifts her fearless head; Religion's beams around thee shine, And cheer thy glooms with light divine: About thee sports sweet Liberty; And wrapt Urania sings to thee.
Oh, let me pierce thy secret cell! And in thy deep recesses dwell; Perhaps from Norwood's oak-clad hill, When meditation has her fill, I just may cast my careless eyes, Where London's spiry turrets rise, Think of its crimes, its cares, its pain,
Then shield me in the woods again.
HAIL! Power Divine, who by thy sole command,
From the dark empty space,
Made the broad sea and solid land
Smile with a heavenly grace.
Made the high mountain and firm rock,
Where bleating cattle stray;
And the strong, stately, spreading oak,
That intercepts the day.
The rolling planets thou madest move,
By thy effective will;
And the revolving globes above
Their destined course fulfil.
His mighty power, ye thunders, praise,
As through the heavens you roll;
And his great name, ye lightnings, blaze,
Unto the distant pole.
seas, in your eternal roar,
His sacred praise proclaim;
While the inactive sluggish shore
Reechoes to the same.
Ye howling winds, howl out his praise,
And make the forests bow;
While through the air, the earth, and seas,
His solemn praise ye blow.
O yon high harmonious spheres,
Your powerful mover sing;
To him your circling course that steers,
Your tuneful praises bring.
Ungrateful mortals, catch the sound,
And in your numerous lays,
To all the listening world around,
The God of nature praise.
A PARAPHRASE ON THE LATTER PART OF THE SIXTH CHAPTER OF ST. MATTHEW.
WHEN my breast labours with oppressive care,
And o'er my cheek descends the falling tear;
While all my warring passions are at strife,
O, let me listen to the words of life!
Raptures deep-felt His doctrine did impart,
And thus He raised from earth the drooping heart.
'Think not, when all, your scanty stores afford,
Is spread at once upon the sparing board;
Think not, when worn the homely robe appears,
While, on the roof, the howling tempest bears;
What further shall this feeble life sustain,
And what shall clothe these shivering limbs again! Say, does not life its nourishment exceed?
And the fair body its investing weed?
'Behold! and look away your
See the light tenants of the barren air :
To them, nor stores, nor granaries belong,
Nought, but the woodland, and the pleasing song;
Yet, your kind Heavenly Father bends his eye
On the least wing that flits along the sky,
To him they sing, when Spring renews the plain,
To him they cry, in Winter's pinching reign;
Nor is their music, nor their plaint in vain;
He hears the gay and the distressful call,
And with unsparing bounty fills them all.
'Observe the rising lily's snowy grace,
Observe the various vegetable race;
They neither toil, nor spin, but careless grow,
Yet see how warm they blush! how bright they glow!
What regal vestments can with them compare!
What king so shining! or what queen so fair!
If ceaseless thus the fowls of heaven he feeds,
If o'er the fields such lucid robes he spreads:
Will he not care for you, ye faithless, say?
Is he unwise? or are ye less than they?'
To praise thy Author, Soul, do not forget;
Canst thou, in gratitude, deny the debt?
Lord, thou art great, how great we cannot know;
Honour and majesty do round thee flow.
The purest rays of primogenial light.
Compose thy robes, and make them dazzling bright;
The heavens and all the wide spread orbs on high
Thou like a curtain stretch'd of curious dye;
On the devouring flood thy chambers are
Establish'd; a lofty cloud's thy car;
Which quick through the ethereal road doth fly,
On swift wing'd winds, that shake the troubled sky.
Of spiritual substance angels thou didst frame,
Active and bright, piercing and quick as flame.
Thou 'st firmly founded this unwieldy earth;
Stand fast for aye, thou saidst, at nature's birth.
The swelling flood thou o'er the earth madest creep,
And coveredst it with the vast hoary deep:
Then hills and vales did no distinction know,
But levell❜d nature lay oppress'd below.
With speed they, at thy awful thunder's roar,
Shrinked within the limits of their shore.
Through secret tracts they up the mountains creep,
And rocky caverns fruitful moisture weep,
This was one of Thomson's earliest pieces. See the MEMOIR, p. xiii. and the ADDEnda.
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