The almighty Voice bid ancient Night Her endless realms resign,

And lo, ten thousand globes of light In fields of azure shine.

Now wisdom, with superior sway,
Guides the vast moving frame,
Whilst all the ranks of beings pay
Deep reverence to his name.

He spake the sun obedient stood,
And held the falling day;
Old Jordan backward drives his flood,
And disappoints the sea.

Lord of the armies of the sky,
He marshals all the stars;
Red comets lift their banners high,
And wide proclaim his wars.

Chain'd to his throne, a volume lies,
With all the fates of men,

With every angel's form and size,
Drawn by the eternal pen.

His providence unfolds the book,

And makes his counsels shine: Each opening leaf, and every stroke, Fulfils some deep design.

Here he exalts neglected worms
To sceptres and a crown;

Anon the following page he turns,

And treads the monarchs down.

Not Gabriel asks the reason why,
Nor God the reason gives;
Nor dares the favourite angel pry
Between the folded leaves.

My God, I never long'd to see
My fate with curious eyes,
What gloomy lines are writ for me,
Or what bright scenes shall rise.

In thy fair book of life and grace
May I but find my name,
Recorded in some humble place
Beneath my Lord the Lamb!

SELF CONSECRATION.

Ir grieves me, Lord, it grieves me sore, That I have liv'd to thee no more,

And wasted half my days;

My inward powers shall burn and flame,

With zeal and passion for thy name,

I would not speak, but for my God, nor move, but to his praise.

What are my eyes but aids to see
The glories of the Deity,

Inscrib'd with beams of light

On flowers and stars? Lord, I behold

The shining azure, green and gold;

But when I try to read thy name, a dimness veils my sight.

Mine ears are rais'd when Virgil sings
Sicilian swains, or Trojan kings,

And drink the music in ;

Why should the trumpet's brazen voice,

Or oaten reed awake my joys,

And yet my heart so stupid lie, when sacred hymns begin?

Change me, O God; my flesh shall be
An instrument of song to thee,

And thou the notes inspire:

My tongue shall keep the heavenly chime,
My cheerful pulse shall beat the time,

And sweet variety of sound shall in thy praise conspire.

The dearest nerve about my heart,

Should it refuse to bear a part,

With my melodious breath, I'd tear away the vital chord,

A bloody victim to my Lord,

And live without that impious string, or show my zeal in death.

THE CREATOR AND CREATURES.

GOD is a name my soul adores,

The Almighty Three, the Eternal One;
Nature and grace, with all their powers,
Confess the infinite Unknown.

From thy great Self thy being springs;
Thou art thy own original,

Made up of uncreated things,

And self-sufficience bears them all.

Thy voice produc'd the seas and spheres,
Bid the waves roar, and planets shine;
But nothing like thyself appears,

Through all these spacious works of thine.

Still restless nature dies and grows;

From change to change the creatures run:
Thy being no succession knows,

And all thy vast designs are one.

A glance of thine runs through the globes,
Rules the bright world, and moves their frame
Broad sheets of light compose thy robes;
Thy guards are form'd of living flame.

Thrones and dominions round thee fall,
And worship in submissive forms;
Thy presence shakes this lower ball,
This little dwelling-place of worms.

How shall affrighted mortals dare
To sing thy glory or thy grace,
Beneath thy feet we lie so far,
And see but shadows of thy face?

Who can behold the blazing light;
Who can approach consuming flame?
None but thy wisdom knows thy might;
None but thy word can speak thy name.

66

THE NATIVITY OF CHRIST.

SHEPHERDS, rejoice, lift up your eyes,

"And send your fears away;

"News from the region of the skies,

"Salvation's born to day.