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Fresh with untarnish'd lustre as she stood, | Princes, the shadows of thy nod, Her Maker bless'd his work, and call'd it Live but to shew how low to God, good :

Is all the gaudy pride of earth :
The morning stars, with joyful acclamation, Thy Kingdom comprehends all space ;
Sxulting sung, and hail'd the new creation. Thy crown, enrich'd with pearls of grace,

Is glorious as the morning's birth.
Yet this fair world, the creature of a day,
Tho' built by God's right hand, must pass If earth's an atom in thy sight,
away;

The working of thy fingers' might,
And long oblivion creep o'er mortal things, How low am I that on it dwell!
The fate of empires, and the pride of kings: Thy brightness not the sun can show ;
Eternal night shall veil their proudest story, Thy voice, not all the winds that blow,
And drop the curtain o'er all human glory. Nor all the rolling thunders tell.

The sun himself, with weary clouds opprest, | The earthquake, and the tempest both
Shall in his silent, dark pavilion rest; Are but the bubbles of thy wrath,
His golden urn shall, broke and useless, lie The hidings of thine awful frown;
Amidst the common ruins of the sky! But smiling mercy's heavenly form,
The stars rush headlong in the wild com- Sits, like an angel, 'midst the storm,
motion,

And wreathes for man a blood-bought And bathe their glitt'ring foreheads in the crown; ocean.

Perish the earth beneath thy hand, But fix'd, O God, for ever stands thy throne; Let heav'n be nought at thy command, Jehovah reigns, a universe alone;

Thou, only thou, art still the same; Th' eternal fire that feeds each vital flame, The void immense itself shall cry, Collected or diffus’d, is still the same. “Glory to thee, O God most high," He dwells within his own unfathom'd es- And ever “hallowed be thy name !"

sence, And fills all space with his unbounded presence.

THE POWER OF GOD.

H. K. WHITE.
But oh! our highest notes the theme debase,
And silence is our least injurious praise :

The Lord our God is full of might,
Cease, cease your songs, the daring flight

The winds obey his will; control,

He speaks, and in his heav'nly height,
Revere him in the stillness of the soul; The rolling sun stands still.
With silent duty meekly bend before him,
And deep within your inmost hearts adore Rebel, ye waves, and o'er the land
him.

With threat'ning aspect roar;
The Lord uplifts his awful hand,

And chains you to tbe shore.

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Where'er I move, thy boundless reign,
Thy mighty presence, circles all the scene.

Where shall my thoughts from thee retire,
Whose view pervades my inmost heart !
The latent, kindling, young desire,
The word, ere from my lips it part,
To thee their various forms display,
And shine reveal'd in thy unclouded day.

Behind me if I turn my eyes,
Or forward bend my wand'ring sight,
Whatever objects round me rise,
Through the wide fields of air and light;
With thee impress'd each various frame,
The forming, moving, present God proclaim.

Father of all, Omniscient mind,
Thy wisdom who can comprehend ?
Its highest point what eye can find,
Or to its lowest depths descend ?
That wisdom, which, ere things began,
Saw full exprest th' all-comprehending plan.

What cavern deep, what hill sublime
Beyond thy reach, shall I pursue ?
What dark recess, what distant clime,
Shall hide me from thy distant view ?
Where from thy spirit shall I fiy,
Diffusive, vital, felt through earth and sky?

If up to heav'ns ethereal height,
Thy prospect to elude, I rise ;
In splendor there, intensely bright,
Thy presence shall my sight surprise :
There beaming from their source divine,
In full meridian light and beauty shine.

Beneath the pendant globe if laid,
If plung'd in bell's abyss profound,
I call on night's impervivus shade
To spread essential blackness round;
Conspicuous to thy wide survey,
Ev'n hell's grim horrors kindle into day.

If through the fields of ether borne,
The living winds my flight sustain,
If on the rosy wings of morn,
I seek the distant western main;
There, O my God! thou still art found,
Thy pow'r upholds me, and thy arms sur-

round.

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