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In

I read his awful name emblazon'd high,
In golden letters on the illumin'd sky.
Nor less the mystic characters I see,
Wrought in each flower, inscrib'd on every tree;
every

leaf that trembles with the breeze,
I hear the voice of God among the trees.
With Thee, in shady solitude I walk;
With Thee, in busy crowded cities talk ;
In every creature own thy forming power ;
In each event thy providence adore;
Thy hopes shall animate my drooping soul,
Thy precepts guide me, and thy fear control.
Thus shall I rest, unmov’d by all alarms,
Secure within the temple of thy arms.
From anxious cares, from gloomy terrors free,
And feel myself omnipotent in Thee.
Then, when the last, the closing hour draws nigh,
And earth recedes before my swimming eye;
When trembling on the doubtful edge of fate
I stand, and stretch my view to either state;
Teach me to quit this transitory scene,
With decent triumph, and a look serene ;
Teach me to fix my ardent hopes on high,
And having liv'd to Thee, in Thee to die.

THE END.

LONDON:
Printed þy A. & R. Spottiswoode, :

New-Street-Square.

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