Elegant Extracts: Or, Useful and Entertaining Pieces of Poetry

O teach me what is good. Teach me THYSELF!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low purfuit! and feed my foul
With knowledge, confcious peace, and virtue
Sacred, iubitantial, never-fading bliss! [pure;

2. Adam and Eve, in a Morning Hymn, call upon all the Parts of the Creation to join with them in extolling their common Maker. Milton. THESE are Thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this univerfal frame, Thus wondrous fair, thyself how wondrousthen! Unspeakable, who fitt it above these Heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen

In these thy lowest works; yet these declare
Thy goodne's beyond thought, and pow'r divine.
Speak ye who beft can tell, ye fons of light,
Anges; for ye behold him, and with fongs
And choral fymphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Heaven,

On Earth, join all ye creatures to extol

And ye five other wand'ring fires that move
In mystic dance, not without fong, resound
His praife, who out of darkness call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth
Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix
And nourish all things; let your ceaselefs change
Vary to our great Maker still new praife.

Mists and Exhalations that now rife
From hill or ftreaming lake, dusky or grey,
Till the fun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,

In honour to the world's great Author rife!

Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky,
Rifing or falling ftill advance his praife.
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,
Brea
His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe foft or loud; and wave your tops, ye Pines,
With every plant in fign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praife.
Join voices, all ye living Souls; ye Birds,
That finging up to Heaven's gate afcend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness if I be filent, morn or even,

Hantint, bim last, him midit, and without end. To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade

Fairet of itars, lait in the train of night,

If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sture pledge of day, that crown'st the fimiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere,
Wille day Cayantes, that sweet hour of prime.

Thou Su
of this great world both eye and foul,
Acknowledge him thy greater, found his praife
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'ft,
And when high noon haft gain'd, and when thou

fall'A.

Made vocal by my fong, and taught his praise.
Hail universal Lord! be bounteous ftill

To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.

I READ God's awful name emblazon'd high,
With golden letters on th' illumin'd iky;
Nor less the mystic characters I see,

Moon, that now meet'st the orient fun, now fly'st
With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies, Wrought in each flower, infcrib'd on ev'ry tree;

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