Yet still her bloom with sick'ning eyes I see,
And all her luxury is lost on me.
The budding plants of variegated hue,
The blossoms opening with the morning dew,
The vernal breeze that gently fans the bow'rs,
The laughing meadows, and enliv'ning show'rs-
Th' enamel'd garden, where the works of art
Give strength to nature, and fresh charms impart ;
Where gaudy pinks and blushing roses bloom,
Rich in array, and pregnant with perfume;
Where Flora smiling sees her offspring vie,
To spread their beauties, and regale the eye;
All,—all in vain with charms united glow,
To deck the scene, or gild the face of woe.
So when the morning lark ascending sings,
While joy attunes his voice, and mounts his wings,
Though to the cheerful notes the hills reply,
And warbling music gladdens all the sky,—
Still in his strains no pleasing charms I find,
No sweet enchantments to compose the mind.
In vain the sun his gaudy pride displays,
No genial warmth attends his brightest rays;—
And when his absent light the moon supplies,
Or planets glitter to enrich the skies ;
No gleam of comfort from their lustre glows,
No harbinger of peace, or calm repose:-
But gloomy vapours o'er the night prevail,
And pestilence is spread in ev'ry gale.
Thus weaken'd by a gradual decay,
Life's bitter cup I drink without allay,
Nor taste the blessings of one cheerful day!
Come then, kind Death! thy sharpest steel prepare,—
Here point the dart—and snatch me from despair!
But stop, O! man--Thy plaintive notes suppress,
With Christian patience learn to acquiesce
Th' instructive voice of reason calmly hear,
And let religion check the flowing tear.
Whate'er the will of Providence assigns,
'Tis infidelity alone repines.
But they, who trust in God, disdain to grieve,
And what our Father sends, resign'd, receive;
Whose sharp corrections testify his love,
And certain blessings in the end will prove.
Who sees how man would err without controul—
Afflicts the body to improve the soul,
And by chastising part, preserves the whole.
Hence the dark low'ring skies, and angry gales,
Conspire to raise the storm, and rend the sails.
Yet if calm reason at the helm preside,
My little bark will stem both wind and tide ;
And adverse currents shall at last convey
The shattered vessel to the realms of day.
Thus taught by Faith how rash it is and vain
For man-mere dust and ashes—to complain !
My soul, with sad disquietude opprest,
Directs her flight to Heav'n in search of rest,
And refuge takes (which peace at last will bring)
Beneath the shadow of th' Almighty's wing.
On him I fix my mind, and place my trust,
A being infinitely wise and just.
And should his providence new beams create,
To brighten the complexion of my fate,
A cheerful tribute to his throne I'll raise,
And stamp my song with gratitude and praise;
But should indulgence suit not his designs,
Who evil into happiness refines,
Let due submission make my burden light,
And may I think "Whatever is, is right."
Then be not thou disquieted my soul;
Have lively faith-and faith shall make thee whole.
When Heav'n inflicts, with calmness bear the stroke, Since to repine, is only to provoke—
Learn to adore the justice of thy God,
And kiss the sacred hand that holds the rod,—
That sacred hand, which first the heart explores,
Probes ev'ry wound, and searches all the sores ;
Then the right med'cine properly applies,
To cleanse the part where all th' infection lies;-
Hear this, thou coward man,-nor dread the smart,
Which, though it stings, will purify the heart;
For Resignation will promote the cure,
And though the means are sharp, the end is sure.
Since, then, afflictions are in mercy sent,
To be of good the happy instrument;
Since for the noblest ends they are design'd,
To form the judgment, to improve the mind;
To curb our passions, to direct our love,
To awe mankind, to speak a God above!
O! may I view them with religious eye,
Nor lose the guard of virtue till I die!
Thence shall I taste the sweets that evils bring,
And suck the honey, while I feel the sting:
Hence shall I learn the bitter cup to bless,
And drink it as a draught of happiness!—
A wholesome potion—which, tho' mix'd with gall,
May still preserve my life, my soul, my all!
Thus fix'd my heart, tho' fruit should fail the vine,
The fig-tree sicken, and its bloom decline;
The culture of the olive be in vain,
And flocks, infected, perish on the plain;
Though corn, and oil, and wine, at once decrease,
The field grow barren, and the harvest cease;
Though baffl'd hinds their fruitless toils deplore,
And vales uncheerful laugh and sing no more,—
Yet still with gladness would I serve the Lord,
Adore His wisdom, and obey His word.
Hear, then, O God! regard a suppliant's pray'r,
Soothe all my pangs,-and save me from despair!
Illuminate my soul with gladsome rays,
And tune my voice to Thy eternal praise;
Dispel the clouds of darkness from my eyes,
And make me know, that to be good-is wise:
Let christian precepts all my soul employ,
And be not more my duty, than my joy.
Let Conscience, void of art, and free from guile,
Still in my bosom innocently smile;
Her cheerful beams will gild the gloom of fate,
And make me happy in whatever state :
Hence shall I learn my talent to improve,
If poor, by patience, and if rich, by love.
If fortune smiles, let me be virtue's friend,
And where I go, let charity attend;
Within my bosom let compassion dwell,
To soften all the woes which others feel;
T'assuage by kind relief affliction's sighs,
And wipe the falling tear from widow's eyes.
To feed the hungry, the distress'd to cheer,
The needy succour, and the feeble rear ;—
Hence shall I scorn temptation's gilded bait,
Look with disdain on all the pomp
And, by humility, be truly great.
But should it be Thy blessed will to spread,
Clouds of thick darkness low'ring o'er my head,
Let me have grace to know they are design'd
To check my follies, and correct my mind:
Let me have grace to know, in my distress,
I still to Thee have a free access,
And be an heir, (tho' all the world should frown) Of heavenly glory, and a future crown.
From these reflections true contentment flows,
Contentment-such as grandeur seldom knows.
Hence, in the lowly cot a relish springs,
Above the taste of courts, and pride of kings:
Thus, on the flood of wealth, be thou my guide,
And steer my course 'twixt avarice and pride,
Or, in the ebb of fortune, teach my mind
To know its duty, and to be resigned,
Prepare me to receive or good or ill,
As the result of Thy almighty will-
Thy will-whose chief design and general plan,
Tends to promote the happiness of man.
Be ev'ry sensual appetite suppress'd,
Nor the least taint lie lurking in my
Let steady reason my affections guide,
And calm content sit smiling by my side.
Teach me with scorn to view the things below,
As gaudy phantoms, and an empty show.
But guide my wishes to the things above,
As the sole object of a Christian's love;
Make me reflect on my eternal home,
A dying Saviour-and a life to come.
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