Beneath thofe rugged elms, that yew-tree's fhade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely ways and destiny obfcure- The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Can ftoried urn, or animated bust, Back to its manfion call the fleeting breath? Perhaps in this neglected fpot is laid, Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Chill Penury repreffed their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the foul. Full many a gem of pureft ray ferene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its fweetnefs on the defert air. Some village Hampden that with dauntless breaft, Some Cromwell guiltlefs of his country's blood. The applause of liftening fenates to command, * GRAY. XXXV. THE CHURCH. HOUGH private prayer be a brave defign, Yet public hath more promises, more love; And love's a weight to hearts, to eyes a fign, We are all but cold fuitors; let us move Where it is warmeft. Leave thy fix and feven; Pray with the moft; for where moft pray, is Heaven. When once thy foot enters the Church, be bare; God is more there than thou; for thou art there Only by His permiffion. Then beware, And make thyself all reverence and fear. Kneeling ne'er spoiled filk ftocking; quit thy ftate: All equal are within the Church's gate. Refort to fermons, but to prayers most ; Praying's the end of preaching. Oh, be drest; Stay not for the other pin. Why, thou haft loft A joy for it worth worlds. Thus hell doth jest Away thy bleffings, and extremely flout thee, Thy clothes being faft, but thy foul loofe about thee. In time of fervice feal up both thine eyes, And fend them to thine heart, that spying fin, They may weep out the stains by them that rife, Those doors being fhut, all by the ears comes in. Who marks in Church-time others' fymmetry, Marks all their beauty his deformity. Let vain or busy thoughts have there no part; thither; Christ purged His Temple, so must thou thy heart; All worldly thoughts are but thieves met together To cozen thee. Look to thy action well, For Churches either are our Heaven or Hell. Judge not the preacher, for he is thy judge; He that gets patience, and the bleffing which Preachers conclude with, hath not loft his pains; He that by being at Church escapes the ditch G. HERBERT. XXXVI. THE CHRISTIAN. OW fine has the day been, how bright was the fun! How lovely and joyful the courfe that he run! Though he rofe in a mift, when his race he begun, And there followed fome droppings of rain. But now the fair traveller's come to the West, His rays are all gold, and his beauties are beft; He paints the sky gay, as he finks to his reft, And foretells a bright rifing again. Juft fuch is the Chriftian! His course he begins, Like the Sun in a mift, when he mourns for his fins, And melts into tears, then he breaks out and fhines, But when he comes nearer to finifh his race, Of rifing in brighter array. WATTS. XXXVII. CONTENTMENT. OME murmur when their fky is clear, In their great heaven of blue; And fome with thankful love are filled, If but one ftreak of light, One ray of God's great mercy gild The darkness of their night. In palaces are hearts that ask, (Love that not ever feems to tire,) TRENCH. |