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If not, why am I subject to
His cruelty or scorn ?
To make his fellow mourn ?
Yet, let not this too much, my son,
Disturb thy youthful breast :
Is surely not the last !
Had never, sure, been born,
To comfort those that mourn!
O death! the poor man's dearest friend,
The kindest and the best!
Are laid with thee at rest!
pomp and pleasure torn; But, Oh! a blest relief to those
That weary-laden mourn!
A PRAYER PRAYER
PROSPECT OF DEATH.
Thou unknown, Almighty Cause
Of all my hope and fear!
Perhaps I must appear !
If I have wander'd in those paths
Of life I ought to shun;
Remonstrates I have done;
Thow know'st that Thou hast formed me
With passions wild and strong ; And list' ning to their witching voice
Has often led me wrong.
Where human weakness has come short,
Or frailty stept aside,
In shades of darkness hide.
Where with intention I have err’d,
No other plea I have,
Delighteth to forgive.
Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene!
Have I so found it full of pleasing charms! Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between:
Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renewing
Is it departing pangs my soul alarms?
Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode! For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms;
I tremble to approach an angry God, And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod.
Fain would I say, · Forgive my foul offence!'
Fain promise never more to disobey; But, should
Author health again dispense,
Again exalt the brute and sink the man; Then how should I for heavenly mercy pray,
Who act so counter heavenly mercy's plan? Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation
O Thou, great Governor of all below!
dare a lifted eye to Thee,
Or still the tumult of the raging sea ; With that controling pow'r assist ev'n me,
Those headlong furious passions to confine; For all unfit I feel my powers to be,
To rule their torrent in th' allowed line,