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From Sinai's top Jehovah gave the law
Life for obedience- death for ev'ry flaw.
When the great Soy'reign would his will express,
He gives a perfect rule; what can he less ?
And guards it with a fanction as severe
As vengeance can inflict, or finners fear :
Else his own glorious rights he would disclaim,
And man might safely trifle with his name.
He bids him glow with unremitting love
To all on earth, and to himself above ;
Condemns th' injurious deed, the Nand'rous tongue,
The thought that meditates a brother's wrong:
Brings not alone the more conspicuous part-
His conduct—to the test, but tries his heart,
Hark! universal nature shook and groan’d,
'Twas the last trumpet-fee the Judge enthron’d;
Rouse all your courage at your utmost need;
Now summon ev'ry virtue-stand, and plead.
What! filent? Is your boasting heard no more?
That self-renouncing wisdom, learn'd before,
Had shed immortal glories on your brow,
That all your virtues cannot purchase now,
All joy to the believer! He can speak-
Trembling, yet happy; confident, yet meek.
Since the dear hour that brought me to thy foot, And cut up all my follies by the root, I never trusted in an arm but thine, Nor hop’d, buț in thy righteousness divine ; My pray’rs and alms, imperfect, and defild, Were but the feeble efforts of a child; Howe'er perform’d, it was their brightest part That they proceeded from a grateful heart; Cleans’d in thine own all-purifying blood, Forgive their evil, and accept their good: I cast them at thy feet—my only plea Is what it was dependence upon thee: While struggling in the vale of tears below, That never fail'd, nor fhall it fail me now,
Angelic gratulations rend the fkies: ' Pride falls unpitied, never inore to rise; Humility is crown'd; and faith receives the prize,
Tantane, tam patiens, nullo certamine talli
Why weeps the muse for England? What appears In England's cafe to move the muse to tears? From side to side of her delightful isle, Is she not cloth'd with a perpetual smile? Can nature add a charm, or art confer A new-found luxury, not seen in her ?
Where under heav'n is pleasure more pursued?
Or where does cold reflection less intrude ?
Her fields a rich expanse of wavy corn,
Pour'd out from plenty's overflowing horn;
Ambrosial gardens, in which art supplies
The fervour and the force of Indian skies ;
Her peaceful shores, where busy commerce waits
To pour his golden tide through all her gates ;
Whom fiery suns, that scorch the russet spice
Of eastern groves, and oceans floor’d with ice
Forbid in vain to push his daring way
To darker climes, or climes of brighter day; :
Whom the winds waft where'er the billows roll,
From the world's girdle to the frozen pole;
The chariots, bounding in her wheel-worn streets;
Her vaults below, where ev'ry vintage meets; ..
Her threatres, her revels, and her sports;
The scenes to which not youth alene resorts,
But age, in spite of weakness and of pain,
Still haunts, in hope to dream of youth. again;
All speak her happy: let the muse look round
From East to West, no sorrow can be found;
Or only what, in cottages confin'd,
Sighs unregarded to the passing wind.
Then wherefore weep for England? What appears
In England's case to move the muse to tears ?
The prophet wept for Israel; wish'd his eyes
Were fountains fed with infinite supplies :
For Israel dealt in robbery and wrong;
There were the scorner's and the Nand'rer's tongue;
Oaths, us’d as playthings or convenient tools,
·As int’rest bias'd knaves, or fashion fools;
Adult’ry, neighing at his neighbour's door;
Oppression, labouring hard to grind the poor ;
The partial balance, and deceitful weight;
The treach'rous smile, a mask for secret hate; .
Hypocrisy, formality in pray’r,
And the dull service of the lip, were there.
Her women, insolent and self-caress’d,
By vanity's unwearied finger dress’d,