A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

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146 POEllS OJ' llD'LBCl'tO!f Alfll 8Blll'l'DODI'l'.

r, loving freedoJD, and untried ;
No •port of every random gnat,
Yet bemg to myeelf a guide,
Too blindly have reposed my tru11t:
And oft when in my heart was beard
Thy timely m!Uldate, I deferr'd
The t.aak, in 11moother walks to atray ;
But Thee I now would serve more atric:tly, it I may.


Through no distnTbance of my soul,
Or strong compunction in me wrought,
I supplicate for thy control;
But in the quietlleas of thought:
Me this uncbart.er'd freedom tiree ;
I feel the weight of chance-deairea:
My hopes no more must change their name,
I long for a repoae that ever is the same.

Stern Lawgiver I y11t thou doat weal'
Tbe godhead's moat benignant grace ;
Nor know we any thing ao fair
As the smile upon thy face :
Flowers laugb before Thee on their beds
And fragrance in thy footing treads;
Thou doat preserve the stars from wrong,
And the moat ancient heavens, through Thee are lreeb alld
strong.

To humbler functions, awful Power I
I call thee : I myeelf commend
Unto thy guidance from this hour;
Oh, let my weakne89 have an end I
Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of ael£-sacritice :
The confidence of reiUion give,
And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live I
Wo!U>8WORTS.

~ ,-Jt ~DJ!.


MEN think it ie an awful si~ht
To see a soul jUBt set adnft
On that dt-ear voya.ge from wh088 night
The ominous shadowa never lift;
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