While yet but young, his father died,
And left him to a happy guide:
Not Lemuel's mother, with more care,
Did counsel or instruct her heir;
Or teach with more success her son,
The vices of the time to shun.
And he just gratitude did show,
To one who had oblig'd him so :
Nothing too much for her he thought,
By whom he was so bred and taught ;
So early made that path to tread,
Which did his youth to honour lead.
His short life did a pattern give,
How neighbours, husbands, sons, should live,
Approv'd by all, and lov'd so well,
Though young, like fruit that's ripe, he fell.
3. In Wimbledon church-yard, on a young woman.
In life's sweet op'ning dawn, she sought her God;
And the gay path of youth with caution trod;
In bloom of beauty, humbly turn'd aside
The incense flatt'ry offer'd to her pride.
Her front with blushing modesty she bound;
And on her lips the law of truth was found;
Fond to oblige, too gentle to offend;
Belov'd by all, to all the good a friend:
The bad she censur'd by her life alone;
Blind to their faults, severe upon her own:
In others' joys and griefs a part she bore;
And with the needy shar'd her little store:
At distance view'd the world with pious dread,
And to God's temple for protection fled;
There, sought that peace which Heav'n alone can give,
And learn'd to die, ere others learn to live.
4. In Blandford church-yard, on Henrietta Maria Percy, aged 16.
See from the earth the fading lily rise;
It springs, it grows, it flourishes, and dies:
So this fair flow'r scarce blossom'd for a day;
Short was the bloom, and speedy the decay.
5. In Tenby church, on Jane Griffith, wife of Thomas Griffith,
When faithful friends descend into the dust,
Grief's but a debt, and sorrows are but just,
Such cause had he to weep, who freely pays
This last sad tribute of his love and praise :
Who mourns the best of wives, and best of friends,
Where with affection, diligence was join'd;
Mourns, but not murmurs; sighs, but not despairs ;
Feels as a man, but as a Christian bears.
6. In Bristol cathedral, on Mrs. Mason: written by her husband.
Take, holy earth! what to my soul is dear:
Take that best gift, which Heav'n so lately gave.
To Bristol's fount I bore, with trembling care,
Her faded form. She bow'd to taste the wave ;-
And died. Does youth, does beauty, read the line?
Does sympathetic fear their breast alarm?
Speak, dead Maria! breathe a strain divine;
Ev'n from the grave, thou shalt have pow'r to charm,
Bid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee:
Bid them in duty's sphere as meekly move:
And, if so fair, from vanity as free,
As firm in friendship, and as fond in love,
Tell them, though 'tis an awful thing to die,
(Twas e'en to thee,) yet, the dread path once trod,
Heav'n lifts its everlasting portals high;
And bids "the pure in heart behold their God."
7. In the church-yard of St. Lawrence, York, on four sons and two daughters of John and Ann Rigg, of that eity.
Mark the brief story of a summer's day!
At noon, Youth, Health, and Beauty, launch'd away ; Ere eve, Death wreck'd the bark, and quench'd their
Their Parents' Home was desolate at night.
Each pass'd alone, that gulf no eye can see :
They met, next moment, in Eternity.
Friend! kinsman! stranger! dost thou ask me, Where?
Seek God's right hand; and hope to find them, There.
The heavenly shepherd; a hymn from the 23d psalm,
THE Lord my pasture shall prepare ;
And feed me with a shepherd's care.
His presence shall my wants supply;
And guard me with a watchful eye :
My noonday walks he shall attend ;
And all my midnight hours defend.
When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountains pant;
To fertile vales, and dewy meads,
My weary, wand'ring steps he leads;
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.
*These six young persons, the eldest of whom was nineteen, and the youngest six, years of age, being, with some others, on a party of pleasure, on the river Ouse, were drowned, together with one of their young companions, by the upsetting of their boat, August 19, 1830, within a short distance from their home.
Though in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart shall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me still,
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade,
Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds I stray,
Thy bounty shall my pains beguile :
The barren wilderness shall smile,
With sudden greens and herbage crown'd;
And streams shall murmur all around,
Hymn on the goodness of Providence.
WHEN all thy mercies, O my God!
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise!
Oh! how shall words, with equal warmth,
The gratitude declare,
That glows within my ravish'd heart?
But thou canst read it there.
Thy Providence my life sustain'd,
And all my wants redress'd,
When in the silent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.
To all my weak complaints and cries,
Thy mercy lent an ear,
Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learn'd,
To form themselves in pray'r.
Unnumber'd comforts to my soul,
Thy tender care bestow'd,
Before my infant heart conceiv'd
From whom those comforts flow'd.
When, in the slipp'ry paths of youth,
With heedless steps, I ran,
Thine arm, unseen, convey'd me safe,
And led me up to man.
Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths,
It gently clear'd my way;
And through the pleasing snares of vice, More to be fear'd than they,
When worn with sickness, oft hast thou
With health renew'd my face e;
And when in sin and sorrow sunk,
Reviv'd my soul with grace.
Ten thousand thousand precious gifts,
My daily thanks employ ;
Nor is the least, a cheerful heart,
That tastes those gifts with joy,
Through ev'ry period of my life,
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And, after death, in distant worlds,
The glorious theme renew.
When nature fails, and day and night
Divide thy works no more,
My ever grateful heart, O Lord!
Thy mercy shall adore.
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