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Mud may conjecture, and new fchemes declare,
Yet all his fystems but conjectures are;
But this we know, that heav'n's eternal King,
Who bid this univerfe from nothing fpring,
Can, at His word, bid num'rous worlds appear,
And rising worlds th' all-pow'rful word fliall hear,

When to the western main the fun defcends,
To other lands a rising day he lends,;
The fpreading dawn another lhepherd fpies,
The wakeful flocks from their warm folds arife;
RefreihM, the peafant feeks his early toil,
And bids the plough correct the fallow foil.
While we in Sleep's embraces waste the Night,
The climes oppos'd enjoy meridian light;
And when thofe lands the bufy fun forfakes,
With us again the rofy Morning wakes;
In lazy fleep the Night rolls fwift away,
And neither clime laments his abfent ray.

When the pure foul is from the body flown, No more ihall Night's alternate reign be known; The fun no more ihall rolling light bestow, But from th' Almighty streams of glory flow. Oh' may fome nobler thought my foul cmploy( Than empty, transient, fublunary joy. The stars ihall drop, the fun ihall loofe his slarae4 JSut thou, O God! for ever stune the fams.




^when all thy mercies, O my God,

My rising foul furveys; Tranfported with the view, I'm loft

In wonder, love, and praife.

O how shall words, with equal warmth,

The gratitude declare, That glows within my ravistVd heart?

Eut thou canst read it there.

Thy providence nay life fustain'd,

And all my wants redrest, When m the filent womh I lay,

And hung upon the hreast.

To all ray weak complaints and cries

Thy mercy lent an ear, Ere yet my feehle thoughts had learnt

To form themfelves in pray'r.

Unnumher'd comforts to my foul

Thy tender care hestow'd,
Before my infant heart conceiv'd
. From whom thofe comforts flow'd.

When in the flipp'ry paths of youth
With heedlesi Heps I rap,

Time arm unfeen convey'd me fafe,

And led me up to man. Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths.

It gently clear'd my way,
And through the pleafmg fnares of vice,

More to he fear'd than they.
When worn with sicknefs, oft hast Thou

With health renew'd my face,
And, when in sins and furrows funk,

Reviv'd my foul with grace.
Thy hounteous hand with worldly hlise

Hath made my cup run o'er,
Aid in a kind and faithful friend

Hath douhJ'd all my store.

Ten thousand thoufand precious gifts

My daily thanks employ,
Kor is the least a cheerful heart,

That tastes thofe gifts with joy,

Through ev'ry period of my life

Thy goodnefs 1'11 purfue;
And after death in distant worlds

The glorious theme renew.

When nature fails, and day and night

Divide thy works no more,
My ever grateful heart, O Lord,

Thy mercy shall adore.
Through all eternity to Thee

A joyful fong I'll raife, Tor 0! eternity's too short To utter all thy praise.



The Lord my pasture ihall prepare,
And feed me with a lhepherd's care:
His prefence mail my wants fupply,
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noon-day walks he ihall attend.
And all my midnight hours defend.

When in the fultry glebe I faint.
Or on the thirsty mountains pant;
To fertile vales, and dewy meads,
My weary, wand'ring steps he leads;
Where peaceful rivers, foft and flow,
Amid the verdant landfcape flow.

Though in the paths of death I tread.
With gloomy horrors overfpread,
My stedfast heart fhall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me still;
Thy friendly crook thall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful fhade?

Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds I stray,
Thy bounty lhall my pains beguile:
The barren wildernefs shall fmile,
With fudden greens and herbage crown'd;
A"d streams shall murmur all around.



The fpdcious sirmament on higfy
With all the blue ethereal iky,
And fpangled heav'ns, a mining frames
Their great Original proclaim:
Th' unwearied fun from day to day,
Does his Creator's pow'r difplay,
And publilhes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.

Soon as the cv'ning shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,'
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth:
Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Consirm the tidings as they roll,
And fpread the truth from pole to pole*

What though in folemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial hall!
What though nor real voice nor found
An»id their radiant orbs be found!
In reafon's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice;
For ever singing as they fliine,
"The hand that made us U Divine!"

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