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But thou, who own'st that earthly bed,
VII. Yet lives there one, whose heedless eye Shall scorn thy pale shrine glimmering near? With him, sweet bard, may fancy die, And joy desert the blooming year.
But thou, lorn stream, whose sullen tide
No sedge-crown'd sisters now attend, Now waft me from the green hill's side, Whose cold turf hides the buried friend!
Dun night has veil'd the solemn view!
Thy life, shall mourn thy early doom!
Long, long thy stone and pointed clay
BY DR. COTTON.
Pereunt et Imputantur.
TO-MORROW, didst thou say?
Methought I heard Horatio say, To-morrow.
And pays thee nought but wishes, hopes, and promises,
That gulls the easy creditor!-To-morrow!
It is a period no where to be found
But soft, my friend-arrest the present moments; For be assured, they all are arrant tell-tales; And though their flight be silent, and their path Trackless, as the wing'd couriers of the air, They post to heaven, and there record thy folly. Because, though station'd on th' important watch, Thou, like a sleeping, faithless centinel, Didst let them pass unnoticed, unimproved. And know, for that thou slumber'dst on the guard, Thou shalt be made to answer at the bar
For every fugitive: and when thou thus
Then stay the present instant, dear Horatio;
The good old patriarch upon record,
THE BENEDICITE PARAPHRASED.
BY THE REV. MR. MERRICK.
YE works of God, on him alone,
In earth his footstool, heaven his throne,
Praise him, ye blest ethereal plains,
Ye waters, that above him roll,
Ye thrones, dominions, virtues, powers,
Celestial orb!-whose powerful ray
Whose influence all things own;
Ye glittering planets of the sky,
With him the song pursue;
He borrows from the brighter Sun
Ye showers and dews, whose moisture shed, Calls into life the opening seed,
To him your praises yield;
Whose influence wakes the genial birth,
Ye winds, that oft tempestuous sweep
With us confess your God;
See, through the heavens, the King of kings,
Ye floods of fire, where'er ye flow,
To his superior power;
And guide the circling year.
Ye frosts, that bind the watery plain,
Pursue the heavenly theme;
Praise him, who sheds the driven snow,
And stops the rapid stream.