II. The sweeping blaft, the sky o'ercast,' The joyless winter-day, Let others fear, to me more dear, Than all the pride of May: The Tempeft's howl, it foothes my foul, My griefs it seems to join; The leafless trees my fancy please, Their fate resembles mine! III. * Thou POW'R SUPREME, whose mighty Scheme, These woes of mine fulfil ; Here, firm, I reft, they must be best, Because they are Thy Will! Then all I want (Oh, do thou grant Since to enjoy Thou doft deny, * Dr. Young. A PRAYER, IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH. I. THOU unknown, Almighty Cause In whofe dread Prefence, ere an hour, Perhaps I must appear! II. If I have wander'd in thofe paths Of life I ought to fhun; As Something, loudly, in my breast, Remonftrates I have done; III. Thou know'ft that Thou haft formed me, And lift'ning to their witching voice Has often led me wrong. IV. Where human weakness has come short, Do Thou, ALL-GOOD, for fuch Thou art, In fhades of darkness hide. V. Where with intention I have err'd, No other plea I have, But, Thou art good; and Goodness still Delighteth to forgive. X TOA MOUNTAIN-DAISY, On turning one down, with the Plough, in April 1786. W EE, modeft, crimson-tipped flow'r, For I maun crush amang the ftoure Thy flender ftem: To spare thee now is past my pow'r, Thou bonie gem. Alas! it's no thy neebor fweet, The bonie Lark, companion meet! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet! Wi's fpreckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling East. Cauld blew the bitter-biting North Upon thy early, humble birth; Yet chearfully thou glinted forth Amid the ftorm, Scarce rear'd above the Parent-earth Thy tender form. The flaunting flow'rs our Gardens yield, High-fhelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield, But thou, beneath the random bield O' clod or ftane, Adorns the hiftie ftibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy fnawie bofom fun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unaffuming head In humble guise; |