SUPREME!

Oteach 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, substantial, never-fading blifs! [pure;

§ 2. Another Address to the Deity. YOUNG.
THOU great arbiter of life and death!
Nature's immortal, immaterial fun!
Whofe all-prolific beam late call'd me forth
From darknefs, teeming darkness, where I lay
The worm's inferior, and in rank beneath
The duft I tread on, high to bear my brow;
To drink the fpirit of the golden day;
And triumph in existence; and couldft know
No motive, but my blifs; and haft ordain'd
A rife in bleffing! with the Patriarch's joy,
Thy call I follow to the land unknown.
I truft in Thee, and know in whom I truft;
Or life, or death, is equal; neither weighs!
All weight in this- let me live to Thee!

3. 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; thy felf how wondrous then!
Unfpeakable, who fitt'ft above these Heavens
To us invifible, or dimly feen

In thefe thy loweft works; yet thefe declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine.
Speak ye who beft can tell, ye fons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with fongs

MORAL,

And choral fymphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Heaven,
On Earth, join all ye creatures to extol
Faireft of ftars, laft in the train of night,
Him firft, him laft, him midft, and without end.
If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day, that crown'ft the finiling morn
While day arifes, that fweet hour of prime.
With thy bright circlet, praife him in thy fphere,
Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and foul,
Acknowledge him thy greater, found his praife
In thy eternal courfe, both when thou climb'ft,
And when high noon haft gain'd, and when thou
fall'ft.

Moon, that now meet'ft the orient fun, now fly'st
With the fix'd ftars, fix'd in their orb that flies,
And ye five other wand'ring fires that move
In myftic dance, not without fong, refound
His praife, who out of darknefs 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 ceafelefs change
Vary to our great Maker ftill new praise.
Ye Mifts and Exhalations that now rife
From hill or ftreaming lake, dufky or grey,
In honour to the world's great Author rife!
Till the fun paint your fleecy fkirts with gold,
Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirfty earth with falling fhowers,
Rifing or falling ftill advance his praife.
His praife 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.
Ποιν
Fountains, and ye that warble as ye
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 praife.

B

Ye.

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,
To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade
Made vocal by my fong, and taught his praife.
Hail univerfal 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 difpels the dark.

§ 4. Hymn on Gratitude. ADDISON. WHEN all thy mercies, O my God,

My rifing foul furveys;
Tranfported with the view, I'm loft....
In wonder, love, and praife.
O how fhall words with equal warmth
The gratitude declare
That glows within my ravish'd heart ? [
But thou canft read it there.
Thy providence my life fuftain'd,
And all my wants redraft)
When in the filent womb I lay,

And hung upon the breast.
To all my weak complaints and cries
Thy mercy lent an earn
Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt
To form themfelves in pray'r.

Unnumber'd comforts to my foul
Thy tender care beftow'd,

Before my infant heart conceiv'd

4

From whom thofe comforts flow'd.

When in the flipp'ry paths of youth
With heedlefs steps I ran,

Thine 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 pleafing fnares of vice,
More to be fear'd than they.
When worn with sickness, oft haft thou
With health renew'd my face,
And when in fins and forrows funk,

Reviv'd my foul with grace.
Thy bounteous hand with worldly blifs
Has made my cup run o'er,

And in a kind and faithful friend

Has doubled all my store.
Ten thousand thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ,
Nor is the leaft a cheerful heart,

That tastes those gifts with joy.
Through every period of my life

Thy goodness I'll purfue; And after death in diftant 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 fhall adore.

Through all eternity to Thee A joyful fong I'll raise, eternity's too fhort

For O

To utter all thy praise.

§ 5. Hymn on Providence. ADDISON, THE Lord my pasture shall prepare,

And feed me with a fhepherd's care:
His prefence fhall my wants supply,
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noon-day walks he fhall 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 fteps he leads;
Where peaceful rivers,, foft and flow,
Amid the verdant landskip flow.
Tho' in the paths of Death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My stedfast heart shall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me ftill;
Thy friendly crook fhall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Tho' in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds 1 ftray,
Thy bounty fhall my pains beguile :
The barren wildernefs fhall fmile,
With fudden greens and herbage crown'd;
And ftreams fhall murmur all around.

§ 6. Another Hymn, from the beginning of the 19th Pfalm. ADDISON.

THE fpacious firmament on high,

With all the blue ethereal sky,
And fpangled Heavens, a fhining frame,
Their great original proclaim :
Th'unwearied fun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's pow'r difplay,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the evening fhades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the lift'ning earth
Repeats the ftory of her birth:
Whilft all the ftars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
What though in folemn filence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball !
What tho' nor real voice nor found
Amid their radiant orbs be found!
In reafon's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
Forever finging as they thine,
"The hand that made us is Divine."

§ 7. Another Hymn. Mrs. RowE.
THE glorious armies of the sky
To thee, Aunighty King,

Triumphant

Triumphant anthems confectate,
And hallelujahs fing.

But their most exalted flights

Fall vaftly fhort of thee:
How diftant then muft human praife
From thy perfections be!
Yet how, my God, fhall I refrain,
When to my ravish'd sense
Lach creature every where around,
Difplays thy excellence!

The active lights that shine above,
In their eternal dance,
Reveal their skilful Maker's praise
With filent elegance.

The blushes of the morn confefs

That thou art ftill more fair, When in the Eaft its beams revive,

Togild the fields of air.

The fragrant, the refreshing breeze:
Of ev'ry flow'ry bloom
In balmy whifpers own, from Thee
Their pleafing odours come.
The finging birds, the warbling winds,
And water's murm'ring fall,
To praise the first Almighty Caufe
With diff'rent voices call.
Thy num'rous works exalt thee thus,
And fhall I filent be?

No; rather let me ceafe to breathe,
Than ceafe from praifing thee

§ 3. Another Hymn. Mrs. Rowe.
THOU didft, O mighty God! exift
Ere time began its race;
Before the ample elements

Fill'd up the void of space :
Before the pond'rous earthly globe
In fluid air was ftay'd;
Before the ocean's mighty springs
Their liquid ftores difplay'd:

Ere through the gloom of ancient night
The treaks of light appear'd;
Before the high celestial arch,

Or ftarry poles werer ear'd:
Before the loud melodious spheres,

Their tuneful round begun;
Before the fhining roads of heav'n
Were meafur'd by the fun:,
Ere through the empyrean courts
One hallelujah rung;
Or to their harps the fons of light
Echatic anthems fung:
Ere men ador'd, or angels knew,
Or prais'd thy wondrous name;
Thy blits, O facred Spring of life!
Thy glory, was the fame.
And when the pillars of the world
With fudden ruin break,

§ 9. Another Hymn, from Pfalm 148th. OGILVIE BEGIN, my foul, th' exalted lay! Let each enraptur'd thought obey, And praife th' Almighty's name. heaven and earth, and feas and skies, In one melodious concert rife,

To fwell th' infpiring theme.
Ye fields of light, celeftial plains,
Where gay tranfporting beauty reigns,
Ye fcenes divinely fair!
Your Maker's wondrous power proclaim;
Tell how he form'd your fhining frame,
And breath'd the fluid air.

Ye angels, catch the thrilling found!
While all th' adoring thrones around
His boundless mercy fing:

Let ev'ry lift'ning faint above
Wake all the tuneful foul of love,

And touch the sweetest ftring.
Join, ye loud fpheres, the vocal choir;
Thou dazzling orb of liquid fire,

The mighty chorus aid: Soon as grey ev'ning gilds the plain, Thou, moon, protract the melting strain, And praife him in the fhade. Thou heav'n of heav'ns, his vaft abode, Ye clouds, proclaim your forming God,

Who call'd yon worlds from night:
"Ye fhades, difpe! !"-th' Eternal faid;
At once th' involving darknefs fled,
And nature fprung to light.
Whate'er a blooming world contains,
That wings the air, that faims the plains,
United praise bestow:

Ye dragons found his awful name
To heav'n aloud, and roar acclaim
Ye fwelling deeps below.
Let every element rejoice:
Ye thunders, burft with awful voice
To him who bids you roll,
His praife in fofter notes declare,
Each whispering breeze of yielding air,
And breathe it to the foul.

To him, ye graceful cedars, bow;
Ye tow'ring mountains, bending low,
Your great Creator own;
Tell, when affrighted nature fhook,
How Sinai kindled at his look,

And trembled at his frown,