Twas thou that march'd against their heathen band,
Rage in thy vifage, and thy flail in hand;

'Twas thou that went before to wound their head,
The captain follow'd where the Saviour led:
Torn from their earth, they feel the defperate wound,
And power unfounded fails for want of ground.

With village-war thy tribes, where'er they go,
Distress the remnant of the scatter'd foe;

Yet mad they rush'd, as whirling wind defcends,
And deem'd for friendless thofe the Lord befriends.
Thy trampling horse from fea to sea subdue,
The bounding ocean left no more to do.

O, when I heard what thou vouchsaf'ft to win,
With works of wonder must be loft for fin;

I quak'd through fear, the voice forfook my tongue,
Or, at my lips, with quivering accent hung;
Dry leanness entering to my marrow came,
And every loofening nerve unftrung my frame.
How fhall I reft, in what protecting shade,
When the day comes, and hoftile troops invade?
Though neither bloffoms on the fig appear,
Nor vines with clusters deck the purpling year;
Though all our labours olive-trees belie,
Though fields the fubftance of the bread deny;
Though flocks are fever'd from the filent fold,
And the rais'd ftalls no lowing cattle hold;
Yet fhall my foul be glad, in God rejoice,
Yet to my Saviour will I lift my voice
Yet to my Saviour still my temper fings,
What David fet to inftruments of ftrings:

The Lord's my strength, like hinds he makes my feet,
Yon mount 's my refuge, I as fafely fleet;

Or (if the fong 's apply'd) he makes me still
Expect returning to Moriah's hill.

In all this hymn what daring grandeur fhines,
What darting glory rays among the lines :

What mountains, earthquakes, clouds, and smokes are feen,

What ambient fires conceal the Lord within;

What working wonders give the promis'd place,
And load the conduct of a stubborn race!

In all the work a lively fancy flows,

O'er all the work fincere affection glows:
While truth's firm rein the course of fancy guides,
And o'er affection zeal divine prefides.

Borne on the prophet's wings, methinks I fly
Amongst eternal Attributes on high:
And here I touch at Love fupremely fair,
And now at Power, anon at Mercy there;

So, like a warbling bird, my tunes I raise,
On those green boughs the Tree of Life displays;
Whose twelve fair fruits, each month by turns receiveș,
And, for the nations' healing, ope their leaves.
Then be the nations heal'd, for this I fing,
Defcending foftly from the prophet's wing.
Thou, world, attend the case of Ifrael; fee
· Twill thus at large refer to God and thee.
If Love be fhewn thee, turn thine eyes above,
And pay the duties relative to Love;

If Power be shewn, and wonderfully fo,
Wonder and thank, adore, and bow below.

AF

If Power that led thee now, no longer lead,

But brow-bent Justice draws the flaming blade.
When Love is fcorn'd, when fan the fword provokes,
Let tears and prayers avert, or heal the strokes ;
If Juftice leaves to wound, and thou to groan,
Beneath new lords, in countries not thine own,
Know this for Mercy's act, and let your lays,
Grateful in all, recount the cause of praise:
Then Love returns, and while no fins divide
The firm alliance, power will shield thy fide.

See the grand round of Providence's care,
See realms affifted here, and punish'd there;
O'er the just circle caft thy wondering eyes,
Thank while you gaze, and study to be wife.

HYMN FOR MORNING.

S

EE the ftar that leads the day,
Rifing, shoots a golden ray,

To make the fhades of darkness go
From heaven above and earth below;
And warn us early with the fight,
To leave the beds of filent night;
From an heart fincere and found,
From its very deepest-ground;
Send devotion up on high,
Wing'd with heat to reach the sky.
See the time for fleep has run,
Rife before, or with the fun:

Lift thy hands, and humbly pray,
The fountain of eternal day;
That, as the light ferenely fair,
Illuftrates all the tracts of air;
The Sacred Spirit fo may reft,

With quickening beams, upon thy breaft;
And kindly clean it all within,
From darker blemishes of fin;

And fhine with grace until we view
The realm it gilds with glory too.
See the day that dawns in air,
Brings along its toil and care:
From the lap of night it fprings,
With heaps of business on its wings;
Prepare to meet them in a mind,
That bows fubmiffively refign'd;
That would to works appointed fall,
That knows that God has order'd all.
And whether, with a famll repast,
We break the fober morning fast;
Or in our thoughts and houfes lay
The future methods of the day;
Or early walk abroad to meet
Our business, with industrious feet:
Whate'er we think, whate'er we do,
His glory ftill be kept in view.
O, giver of eternal bliss,

Heavenly Father, grant me this;

Grant it all, as well as me,

All whofe hearts are fix'd on thee;

Who

Who revere thy Son above,

Who thy Sacred Spirit love.

T

HYMN FOR NOON.

HE fun is fwiftly mounted high, It glitters in the fouthern sky; Its beams with force and glory beat, And fruitful earth is fill'd with heat. Father, alfo with thy fire

Warm the cold, the dead defire,

And make the facred love of thee,
Within my foul, a fun to me.
Let it fhine fo fairly bright,

That nothing else be took for light;
That worldly charms be feen to fade,
And in its luftre find a fhade.
Let it ftrongly thine within,

To scatter all the clouds of fin,
That drive when gufts of paffion rife,
And intercept it from our eyes.
Let its glory more than vie

With the fun that lights the fky:
Let it swiftly mount in air,
Mount with that, and leave it there;
And foar, with more aspiring flight,
To realms of everlasting Light.
Thus, while here I'm forc'd to be,
I daily with to live with thee;