But let the sober matron wear Her own mechanic sober air: Ah me! ill suits, alas! the sprightly jig, Let thought turn exile, while the vacant mind To win the ear, neglects the heart. Of rhythm converted into rime, Court the quaint Muse, and con her lessons o'er, 2. O Fancy, bright aërial maid! Where have thy vagrant footsteps strayed? Driven by the impetuous tide of song; Whose lady Muse full wantonly is drest, As varnish on the cheek of harlot light; Smooth, soothing sounds, and sweet alternate rime, 3. The lark shall soar in every Ode, With flowers of light description strewed; And sweetly, warbling Philomel, shall flow Trim epithets shall spread their gloss, There mouldering stones o'erspread the rugged ground. There babbling fonts, and prattling rills; While Taste and Genius shall dispense, From every new poetic flower, And sweets collected may a wreath compose, To bind the poet's brow, or please the critic's nose. LINES WRITTEN UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF DELIRIUM. HATRED and vengeance, my eternal portion Scarce can endure delay of execution,— Soul in a moment. Damned below Judas; more abhorred than he was, Twice-betrayed Jesus me, the last delinquent, Deems the profanest. Man disavows, and Deity disowns me, Therefore, Hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all Hard lot! encompassed with a thousand dangers; Him the vindictive rod of angry Justice Sent quick and howling to the centre headlong; Buried above ground. OLNEY HYMNS. I. WALKING WITH GOD. OH for a closer walk with God! What peaceful hours I once enjoyed! The world can never fill. Return, O holy Dove, return, Sweet messenger of rest! I hate the sins that made thee mourn, And drove thee from my breast. The dearest idol I have known,. Whate'er that idol be, Help me to tear it from thy throne, So shall my walk be close with God, II. JEHOVAH-JIREH.-THE Lord This Abraham found: he raised the knife; God saw, and said, "Forbear! Once David seemed Saul's certain prey; When Jonah sunk beneath the wave, And bear him to the shore. Blest proofs of power and grace divine, Wait for his seasonable aid, And though it tarry, wait: The promise may be long delayed, But cannot come too late. III. JEHOVAH-ROPHI.—I AM THE HEAL us, Emmanuel! here we are, Our faith is feeble, we confess, Be that far from thee, Lord! Remember him who once applied, 66 Lord, I believe," with tears he cried, "Oh, help my unbelief!" She too, who touched thee in the press, And healing virtue stole, Was answered, "Daughter, go in peace, Thy faith hath made thee whole." Concealed amid the gathering throng, She would have shunned thy view; And if her faith was firm and strong, Had strong misgivings too. Like her, with hopes and fears we come, By whom was David taught And laid the Gittite low? Nor sword nor spear the stripling took, 'Twas Israel's God and King Ye feeble saints, your strength endures, Who ordered Gideon forth A pitcher and a lamp? The trumpets made his coming known, And all the host was overthrown. Oh! I have seen the day, "My trust is in the Lord," My soul hath quelled a thousand foes, Fearless of all that could oppose. But unbelief, self-will, Self-righteousness, and pride, How often do they steal My weapon from my side! Yet David's Lord, and Gideon's friend, Will help his servant to the end. V. JEHOVAH-SHALOM. THE To reconcile offending man, Make Justice drop her angry rod; What creature could have formed the plan, Or who fulfil it but a God? No drop remains of all the curse, For wretches who deserved the whole; No arrows dipt in wrath to pierce The guilty, but returning soul. Peace by such means so dearly bought, What rebel could have hoped to see? Peace, by his injured Sovereign wrought, His Sovereign fastened to a tree. Now, Lord, thy feeble worm prepare! For strife with earth and hell begins; Confirm and gird me for the war; They hate the soul that hates his sins. Let them in horrid league agree! They may assault, they may distress; But cannot quench thy love to me, Nor rob me of the Lord my peace. Unfathomable wonder, And mystery divine! The Voice that speaks in thunder, Says, "Sinner, I am thine!" VII. VANITY OF THE WORLD. GOD gives his mercies to be spent ; Your hoard will do your soul no good; Gold is a blessing only lent, Repaid by giving others food. The world's esteem is but a bribe, To buy their peace you sell your own; The slave of a vain-glorious tribe, Who hate you while they make you known. The joy that vain amusements give, Oh! sad conclusion that it brings! The honey of a crowded hive, Defended by a thousand stings. God knows the thousands who go down VIII. O LORD, I WILL PRAISE I WILL praise thee every day Here, in the fair Gospel-field, Jesus is become at length Praise ye, then, his glorious name, Publish his exalted fame! Still his worth your praise exceeds ; Raise again the joyful sound, IX. THE CONTRITE HEART. THE Lord will happiness divine I hear, but seem to hear in vain, If aught is felt, 'tis only pain, I sometimes think myself inclined Averse to all that's good. My best desires are faint and few, Thy saints are comforted, I know, Oh make this heart rejoice or ache; X. THE FUTURE PEACE AND GLORY OF THE CHURCH. Isaiah 1x. 15-20. HEAR what God the Lord hath spoken: "O my people, faint and few, Comfortless, afflicted, broken, Fair abodes I build for you. Thorns of heartfelt tribulation Shall no more perplex your ways: You shall name your walls Salvation, And your gates shall all be Praise. |