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Mud may conjecture, and new fchemes declare,
When to the western main the fun defcends,
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,
When in the flipp'ry paths of youth
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,
More to he fear'd than they.
With health renew'd my face,
Reviv'd my foul with grace.
Hath made my cup run o'er,
Hath douhJ'd all my store.
Ten thousand thoufand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ,
That tastes thofe gifts with joy,
Through ev'ry period of my life
Thy goodnefs 1'11 purfue;
The glorious theme renew.
When nature fails, and day and night
Divide thy works no more,
Thy mercy shall adore.
A joyful fong I'll raife, Tor 0! eternity's too short To utter all thy praise.
The Lord my pasture ihall prepare,
When in the fultry glebe I faint.
Though in the paths of death I tread.
Though in a bare and rugged way,
FROM PSALM XIX;
The fpdcious sirmament on higfy
Soon as the cv'ning shades prevail,
What though in folemn silence all