But still his native country lies
Beyond the bound'ries of the skies.
7. Of Heav'n ask virtue, wisdom, health;
But never let thy prayer be wealth.
If food be thine, (though little gold,)
And raiment to repel the cold,
Such as may nature's wants suffice,
Not what from pride and folly rise;
If soft the motions of thy soul,

And a calm conscience crowns the whole:
Add but a friend to all this store,

You can't in reason wish for more:
And if kind Heav'n this comfort brings,
'Tis more than Heav'n bestows on kings.

COTTON.

CHAPTER IV.

DESCRIPTIVE PIECES.

SECTION I.

The pleasures of retirement.

1. HAPPY the man, whose wish and care,

A few paternal acres bound: Content to breathe his native air,

In his own ground.

2. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ;

Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

In winter fire.

3. Blest who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years, slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,

Quiet by day.

4. Sound sleep by night; study and ease, Together mix'd; sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please,

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a stone

With meditation:

Tell where I lie.

POPEL

SECTION II.

The Sluggard.

1. "Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain, "You have wak'd me too soon, I must slumber again." As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed,

Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head. 2. "A little more sleep, and a little more slumber;" Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number;

And when he gets up, he sits folding his hands, Or walks about saunt'ring, or trifling he stands. 3. I pass'd by his garden, I saw the wild brier,

The thorn, and the thistle, grow broader and higher, The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags, And his money still wastes, till he starves, or he begs. 4. I made him a visit, still hoping to find

He had ta'en better care for improving his mind: He told me his dreams, talk'd of eating and drinking; But he scarce reads the Bible, and never loves thinking. 5. Said I then to my heart, "Here's a lesson for me;

That man's but a picture of what I might be :

But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding, Who taught me betimes to love working and reading.'

SECTION III.

Creation and Providence.

1. I SING th' almighty power of God,
That made the mountains rise;
That spread the flowing seas abroad,
And built the lofty skies.

2. I sing the wisdom that ordain'd
The sun to rule the day;

The moon shines full at his command,
And all the stars obey.

3. I sing the goodness of the Lord,

That fill'd the earth with food:

He form'd the creatures with his word And then pronounc'd them good. 4. Lord! how thy wonders are display'd, Where'er I turn mine eye;

WATTS.

If I survey the ground I tread,
Or gaze upon the sky!

5. There's not a plant or flower below
But makes thy glories known;
And clouds arise, and tempests blow,
By order from thy throne.

6. Creatures (as num'rous as they be)
Are subject to thy care;

There's not a place where we can flee,
But God is present there.

7. In Heav'n he shines with beams of love
With wrath in hell beneath!

"Tis on his earth I stand or move, And 'tis his air I breathe. 8. His hand is my perpetual guard; He keeps me with his eye; Why should I then forget the Lord, Who is for ever nigh?

SECTION IV.

A morning in Spring.

1. Lo! the bright, the rosy morning,
Calls me forth to take the air:
Cheerful Spring, with smiles returning,
Ushers in the new born year.

2. Nature now in all her beauty,

With her gently moving tongue,
Prompts me to the pleasing duty,
Of a grateful morning song.
3. See the early blossoms springing!
See the jocund lambkins play
Hear the lark and linnet singing,
Welcome to the new born day!
4. Vernal music softly sounding,

Echoes through the verdant grove:
Nature now with life abounding,

Swells with harmony and love.
5. Now the kind refreshing showers,
Water all the plains around:
Springing grass, and painted flowers,
In the smiling meads abound.

6. Now their vernal dress assuming,
Leafy robes adorn the trees:

Odors now the air perfuming,

WATTS.

Sweetly swell the gentle breeze.

7. Praise to thee, thou great Creator!

Praise be thine from every tongue; Join my soul, with every creature ; Join the universal song.

8. For ten thousand blessings given ;

For the richest gifts bestow'd;

Sound his praise through earth and heaven;

Sound Jehovah's praise aloud !

SECTION V.

Heavenly wisdom.

1. How happy is the man who hears
Instruction's warning voice;

And who celestial Wisdom makes
His early, only choice.

2. For she has treasures greater far
Than east or west unfold;

And her reward is more secure
Than is the gain of gold.

3. In her right hand she holds to view,
A length of happy years;
And in her left, the prize of fame,
And honor bright appears.

4. She guides the young with innocence,
In pleasure's path to tread :

A crown of glory she bestows
Upon the hoary head.

5. According as her labors rise,
So her rewards increase:

Her ways are ways of pleasantness,

And all her paths are peace.

SECTION VI.

The Man of Ross.

FAWCETT.

LOGAN.

1. RISE, honest muse, and sing the Man of Ross,-
Who hung with woods yon mountain's sultry brow?
From the dry rock who bade the waters flow?
Not to the skies in useless columns tost,

Or in proud falls magnificently lost;

But clear and artless, pouring through the plain,
Health to the sick, and solace to the swain.

2. Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows?
Whose seats the weary traveller repose

?

Who taught that heaven directed spire to rise? "The Man of Ross," each lisping babe replies.

3. Behold the market place with poor o'erspread!
The Man of Ross divides the weekly bread.
He feeds yon almshouse, neat, but void of state,
Where age and want sit smiling at the gate.
Him portion'd maids, apprentic'd orphans blest;
The young who labor, and the old who rest.
4. Is any sick? The Man of Ross relieves,
Prescribes, attends, the med'cine makes and gives.
Is there a variance? Enter but his door,

Balk'd are the courts, and contest is no more.
Thrice happy man! enabled to pursue,

What numbers wish, but want the power to do. POPE.
SECTION VII.
Resignation.

1. WHILE Some in folly's pleasures roll,
And seek the joys that hurt the soul;
Be mine, that silent calm repast,
A peaceful conscience to the last :
2. That tree which bears immortal fruit,
Without a canker at the root;

That friend, which never fails the just,
When other friends must quit their trust.
3. Come then, my soul, be this thy guest,
And leave to folly's sons the rest;
With this thou ever may'st be gay,
And night shall brighten into day.
4. With this companion in the shade,
My soul no more shall be dismay'd;
But fearless meet the midnight gloom,
And the pale monarch of the tomb.
5. Though tempests drive me from the shore,
And floods descend, and billows roar ;
Though death appear in every form,
My little bark shall brave the storm.
6. Amid the various scene of ills,
Each stroke some kind design fulfils;
And shall I murmur at my God,
When sov'reign Love directs the rod ?
7. Peace, rebel thoughts, I'll not complain;
My Father's smiles suspend my pain:
Smiles, that a thousand joys impart,
And pour the balm that heals the smart.
8. Though Heaven afflict, I'll not repine;
Each heart-felt comfort still is mine: