Religion! what treasures untold
Refides in that heavenly"word!
More precious than filver and gold,
Or ought that this earth can afford,
But the found of the church-going bell
These valleys and rocks never heard,
Never figh'd at the found of a knell,
Or fmiled when a Sabbath appear'd.
Ye winds that have made me your sport,
Convey to this defolate fhore
Some cordial, endearing report
Of a land I fhall vifit no more.
My friends,—do they now and then fend
A wish or a thought after me?
O tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see.
How fleet is the glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempeft itself lags behind,
And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there, But alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.
But the fea fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair,
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.
There's mercy in every place,
And mercy encouraging thought!
Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.
FT at the filent, fhadowy clofe of day, When the hushed grove has fung its parting lay;
When penfive twilight in her dusky
Slowly afcends, to meet the evening star;
Above, below, aërial murmurings fwell,
From hanging wood, brown heath, and bushy dell;
A thousand nameless rills, that fhun the light,
Stealing foft mufic on the ear of night.
So oft the finer movements of the foul,
That fhun the sphere of pleasure's gay control,
In the ftill fhades of calm feclufion rife,
And breathe their sweet feraphic harmonies!
HESE hearts, alas! cleave to the duft
By ftrong and endless ties;
Whilft every forrow cuts a ftring,
And urges us to rife.
When heaven would kindly fet us free,
And earth's enchantment end;
It takes the moft effectual way,
And robs us of a friend.
Refign,—and all the load of life
That moment you remove;
Its heavy load, ten thousand cares,
Devolve on One above-
Who bids us lay our burden down,
On His almighty hand;
Softens our duty to relief,
Our bleffings to command.
E wept-'twas Nature wept,-but
Faith
Can pierce beyond the gloom of death,
And in yon world fo fair and bright,
Behold thee in refulgent light.
We miss thee here, yet Faith would rather,
Know thou art with thy Heavenly Father.
Nature fees the body dead-
Faith beholds the spirit fled;
Nature ftops at Jordan's tide-
Faith beholds the other fide;
That but hears farewell and fighs
This, thy welcome in the skies;
Nature mourns a cruel blow-
Faith affures it is not fo;
Nature never fees thee more-
Faith but fees thee gone before;
Nature tells a difmal ftory-
Faith has vifions full of glory;
Nature views the change with fadness-
Faith contemplates it with gladness;
Nature murmurs-Faith gives meekness;
Strength is perfected in weakness."
Nature writhes and hates the rod-
Faith looks up and bleffes God;
Senfe looks downwards-Faith above;
That fees harfhnefs-This fees love;
Oh! let Faith victorious be-
Let it reign triumphantly!
But thou art gone! not loft, but flown,
Shall I then ask thee back, my own?
Back-and leave thy fpirit's brightness ?
Back-and leave thy robes of whiteness ?
Back-and leave thine angel mould ?
Back-and leave thofe ftreets of gold?
Back-and leave the Lamb who feeds thee?
Back-from founts to which He leads thee?
Back-and leave thy Heavenly Father?
-to earth and fin? Nay, rather
Would I live in folitude!
I would not ask thee, if I could;
But patient wait the high decree,
That calls my fpirit home to thee !
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