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Hark! when thy breath her fong impels,
How full the tuneful current fwells.
Le Melancholy's plaintive tongue
Intruct the nightly ftrains of Y-;
But thine was Homer's ancient might,
And thine victorious Pindar's flight:
Thy myrtles crown'd the
Thy voice awak'd + Sicilian reeds;
Thy breath perfumes the Teian rofe,
And Tiber's vine fpontaneous flows;
While Horace wantons in thy quire;
The gods and heroes of the lyre.

Lefbian meads:

See where the pale, the fick'ning fage
(A prey perhaps to fortune's rage,
Perhaps by tender griefs oppreft,
Or glooms congenial to his breast)
Retires in defert-fcenes to dwell.
And bids the joyless world farewell.
Alone he treads th' autumnal fhade,
Alone beneath the mountain laid,
He fees the nightly damps arife,
And gathering ftorms involve the skies;
He hears the neighb'ring furges roll,
And raging thunders thake the pole;
Then, truck by every object round,
And funn'd by ev'ry horrid found,
He pants to traverse nature's ways:"
His evils haunt him thro' the maze:
He views ten thousand demons rife,
To weld the empire of the skies,
And Chance and Fate affume the rod,
And Malice blots the throne of GOD.
-0 Thou, whofe pleafing power I fing!
Tay lenient influence hither bring;
Compofe the ftorm, difpel the gloom
Tl Nature wears her wonted bloom,
Til fields and fhades their fweets exhale,
And music (well each opening gale:
Then o'er his breaft thy foftnefs pour,
And let him learn the timely hour
To trace the world's benignant laws,
And judge of that prefiding caufe
Who founds in difcord beauty's reign,
Converts to pleasure every pain,
Sundaes the hoftile forms to reft,
And bids the univerfe be bleft.

O Thou, whofe pleating power I fing!
right I touch the votive string,
equal praife I yield thy name,
Sgovem thou thy poet's flame;
Still with the Mufe my bosom share,
And footh to peace corroding care,
But mot exert thy genial power,
On fendthip's confecrated hour:
And while my Agis leads the road
To fadefs wifdom's high abode;
Or, in freedom's facred cause,
Paris the light of Grecian laws;
Attend, and grace our gen'rous toils
With all thy garlands, all thy fmiles.
But if, by fortune's ftubborn fway
From him and friendship torn away,
1 court the Mufes healing fpell
For griefs that ftill with abfence dwell,

• Alcaus and Sappho.

Do thou conduct my fancy's dreams
To fuch indulgent, tender themes
As juft the ftruggling breaft may cheer,
And juft fufpend the starting tear;
Yet leave that charming fenie of woe,
Which none but friends and lovers know.

17. The 8th Pfalm tranflated.
Chriftopher Pitt.

O KING eternal and divine!
The world is thine alone:
Above the ftars thy glories fhine,

Above the heavens thy throne,

How far extends thy mighty name!
Where'er the fun can roll,
That fun thy wonders fhall proclaim,
Thy deeds from pole to pole.

The infant's tongue fhall speak thy power
And vindicate thy laws;

The tongue that never spoke before,
Shall labour in thy cause.

For when I lift my thoughts and eyes.
And view the heavens around,
Yon ftretching wafte of azure skies,

With ftars and planets crown'd:
Who in their dance attend the Moon,
The empress of the night,
And pour around her filver throne,
Their tributary light:

Lord! what is mortal man, that he

Thy kind regard fhould fhare? What is his fon, who claims from thee, And challenges thy care?

Next to the bleft Angelic kind,

Thy hands created man, And this inferior world affign'd To dignity his fpan.

Him all revere, and all obey

His delegated reign;

The flocks that through the valley ftray,
The herds that graze the plain.
The furious tiger fpeeds his flight,
And trembles at his power;
In fear of his fuperior might,
The lions cease to roar.
Whatever horrid monsters tread
The paths beneath the fea,
Their king at awful diftance dread,
And fullenly obey.

O Lord, how far extends thy name!
Where'er the fun can roll,

That fun thy wonders fhall proclaim;
Thy deeds from pole to pole.

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+ Theocritus.

B 4 Anacreon.

For he within the gloomy deeps

Its dark foundations caft,

And rear'd the pillars of the earth
Amid the watery waste.

Who shall ascend his Sion's hill,

And fee Jehovah there ?

Who from his facred fhrine fhall breathe
The facrifice of prayer?

He only whofe unsully'd foul

Fair virtue's paths has trod,
Who with clean hands and heart regards
His neighbour and his God.
On him thall his indulgent Lord

Diffutive bounties fhed;
From God his Saviour fhall defcend

All bleflings on his head.

Of those who feek his righteous ways
Is this the chofen race,

Who bask in all his bounteous fmiles,

And flourish in his grace.

Lift up your stately heads, ye doors,
With hafty reverence rife;

Ye everlasting doors! who guard
The pafles of the skies.

wift from your golden hinges leap,
Your barriers roll away,

Now throw your blazing portals wide,
And burit the gates of day.

For fce the King of Glory comes

Along th' ethereal road:

The cherubs through your folds shall bear
The triumphs of their God.

Who is this great and glorious King?
Oh! 'tis the Lord, whofe might
Decides the conquest, and suspends
The balance of the fight.

Lift up your stately heads, ye doors!
With hafty reverence rife;
Ye everlasting doors! who guard

The paffes of the fkies.

Swift from your golden hinges leap,

Your barriers roll away,

Now throw your blazing portals wide,
And burft the gates of day;
For fee! the King of Glory comes

Along th' ethereal road:

The cherubs through your folds fhall bear
The triumphs of their God.

Who is this great and glorious King?
Oh! 'tis the God, whofe care
Leads on his Ifrael to the field,

Whole power controuls the war.

19. Paim 29th. Pitt.

YE mighty princes, your oblations bring, And pay due honours to your awful King; His boundless power to all the world proclaim, Bend at his fhrine, and tremble at his name. For hark! his voice, with unrefifted fway, Rules and controuls the raging of the fea;

Within due bounds the mighty ocean keeps,
And in their watery cavern awes the deeps:
Shook by that voice, the nodding groves around
Start from their roots,and fly the dreadful found.
The blafted cedars low in duft are laid,
And Lebanon is left without a shade.
See! when he fpeaks, the lofty mountains crowd,
And fly for fhelter from the thundering God:
Sirion and Lebanon like hinds advance,
And in wild measures lead th' unweildy dance.
His voice, his mighty voice, divides the fire,
Back from the blaft the fhrinking flames retire.
Ev'n Cades trembles when Jehovah fpeaks,
With all his Savages the defert thakes.
At the dread found the hinds with fear are ftung,
And in the lonely foreft drop their young,
While in his hallow'd temple all proclaim
His glorious honours, and adore his name,
High o'er the foaming furges of the fea
He fits, and bids the liftening deeps obey:
He reigns o'er all; for ever lafts his power,
Till nature finks, and time fhall be no more.
With ftrength the sons of Ifrael shall he bless,
And crown our tribes with happiness and peace.

$20. Pfalm 46th paraphrafed. Pitt. ON God we build our fure defence,

In God our hope repofe:

His hand protects us in the fight,

And guards us from our woes,
Then, be the Earth's unwieldy frame
From its foundation hurl'd,

We may, unmov'd with fear, enjoy
The ruins of the world.

What though the folid rocks be rent,

In tempetts whirl'd away ?

What though the hills fhould burft their roots,
And roll into the fea?

Thou Sea, with dreadful tumults fwell,
And bid thy waters rife

In furious furges, till they dath

The flood-gates of the skies.
Our minds fhall be ferene and calm,
Like Siloah's peaceful flood;
Whose foft and filver streams refresh
The City of our God.

Within the proud delighted waves
The wanton turrets play;

The ftreams lead down their humid train,
Reluctant to the fea.

Amid the scene the temple floats,

With its reflected towers,
Gilds all the furface of the flood,
And dances to the fhores.
With wonder fee what mighty power
Our facred Sion cheers,
Lo! there amidst her stately walls,
Her God, her God appears!
Fixt on her bafis we shall stand,

And, innocently proud,
Smile on the tumults of the world,
Beneath the wings of God.

See !

See how their weakness to proclaim,

The heathen tribes engage!

See! bow with fruitless wrath they burn, And impotence of rage!

But God has spoke; and lo! the world,
His terrors to difplay,

With a the melting globe of earth,
Drops flently away.

Still to the mighty Lord
Securely we refort;

of hofts

For rehdy to Jacob's God,

Our accour and fupport.

Her, pe zumerous nations, crowd,
la Lent rapture stand,
And he oer all the earth display'd
The wonders of his hand.
He is the din of war be still,

And all its tumults cease;
He's the guiltless trumpet found
The harmony of peace.
He breaks the rough reluctant bow,
H: burts the brazen fpear,
And the crackling fire his hand
Cars the blazing car.
Hearth is formidable voice,

*E: fill, and know the Lord: 3 the heathen I'll be fear'd; By all the earth ador'd.” Sto the mighty Lord of hosts Securely we refort;

For m

ty to Jacob's God,

Our accour and fupport.

121 Pim goth paraphrafed.

Pitt.

THY O Lord, through rolling years
His Ads from defpair,

From period down to period stretch'd
The prospects of thy care.

Before the world was first conceiv'd,
Be the pregnant earth

Cth the mountains from her womb,

Who struggled to their birth; En God! thy early days

nd duration run, Extort race of fleeting time Wamefur'd by the Sun. W but future nations hear Typotent voice again, Lee the fummons, and restore The perifh'd race of man. comprehenfive fight Don fleets away; A ages on the wing inter than a day. Ashovah's piercing eyes y explore,

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The oara is a night;
And is an hour.

Wer thy mighty call, O Lord,
Our tacy'd beings leave,

Rous'd from the flattering dream of life,
To fleep within the grave..
Swift from their barrier to their goal
The rapid moments pass,

And leave poor man, for whom they run,
The emblem of the grass.

In the firft morn of life it grows,
And lifts its verdant head;
At noon decays, at evening dies,
And withers in the mead,
We in the glories of thy face,
Our fecret fins furvey,
And fee how gloomy those appear,
How pure and radiant they.
To death as our appointed goal
Thy anger drives us on:
To that full period fix'd at length
This tale of life is done.
With winged fpeed, to stated bounds
And limits we must fly,
While feventy rolling funs complete
Their circles in the sky.

Or if ten more around us roll,

'Tis labour, woe, and strife, Till we at length are quite drawn down To the last dregs of life.

But who, O Lord, regards thy wrath,
Though dreadful and fevere?
That wrath, whatever fear he feels,
Is equal to his fear.

So teach us, Lord, to count our days,
And eye their conftant race,

To measure what we want in time,
By wisdom, and by grace.

With us repent, and on our hearts
Thy choicest graces thed,

And thower from thy celeftial throne
Thy bleffings on our head.

Oh! may thy mercy crown us here,
And come without delay;

Then our whole courfe of life will feem
One glad triumphant day.

Now the bleft years of joy rettore,
For thofe of grief and ftrife,
And with one pleafant drop allay

This bitter draught of life."
Thy wonders to the world display,
Thy fervants to adorn,
That may delight their future, fons,
And children yet unborn;
Thy beams of Majesty diffuse,

With them thy great commands,
And bid prosperity attend

The labours of our hands.

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He taught me first the pointed fpear to wield,
And mow the glorious harvest of the field.
Byhim infpir'd, from strength to strength I pafs'd,
Plung d through the troops, and laid the battle
In him my hopes I center and repofe, [wafte.
He guards my life, and fhields me from my foes.
He held his ample buckler o'er my head,
And screen'd me trembling in the mighty fhade:
Against all hoftile violence and power,
He was my fword, my bulwark, and my tower.
He o'er my people will maintain my way,
And teach my willing fubjects to obey.

Lord! what is man, of vile and humble birth,
Sprung with his kindred reptiles from the earth,
That he should thus thy fecret counfels fhare?
Or what his fon, who challenges thy care?
Why does thine eye regard this nothing, man?
His life a point, his measure but a fpan?
The fancy'd pageant of a moment made,
Swift as a dream, and fleeting as a fhade.

Come in thy power, and leave th`ethereal plain,
And to thy harness'd tempeft give the rein;
Yon ftarry arch fhall bend beneath the load,
So loud the chariot, and fo great the God!
Soon as his rapid wheels Jehovah rolls,
The folding skies fhall tremble to the poles:
Heav'ns gaudy Axle with the world fhall fall,
Leap from the centre, and unhinge the ball.
Touch'd by thy hands, the labouring hills ex-
Thick clouds of fmoke, and deluges of fire; [pire
On the tall groves the red destroyer preys,
And wraps th' eternal mountains in the blaze:
Full on my foes may all thy lightnings fly,
On purple pinions through the gloomy sky.

Pil'd up with plenty let our barns appear,
And burit with all the Seafons of the Year;
Let pregnant flocks in every quarter bleat,
And drop their tender young in every street.
Safe from their labours may our oxen come,
Safe may they bring the gather'd fummer home
Oh! may no fighs, no ftreams of forrow flow,
To ftain our triumphs with the tears of woe.
Bleft is the nation, how fincerely bleft!
Of fuch unbounded happiness poffeft,
To whom Jehovah's facred name is known,
Who claim the God of Ifrael for their own.

23. The 3d Chapter of Job. Pitt.

JOB curs'd his birth, and bade his curfes flow
In words of grief, and eloquence of woe:
Loft be that day which dragg'd me to my doom
Recent to life, and ftruggling from the womb;
Whose beams with fuch malignant luftre fhone,
Whence all my years in anxious circles run.
Loft be that night in undetermin'd fpace,
And veil with deeper fhades her gloomy face,
Which crowded up with woes this flender fpan,
While the dull mafs rofe quick'ning into man.

O'er that curs'd day let fable darkness rife,
Shroud the blue vault, and blacken all the skies;
May God o'erlook it from his heavenly throne,
Nor roufe from fleep the fedentary fun,
O'er its dark face to fhed his genial ray,
And warm to joy the melancholy day.
May the clouds frown, and livid poifons breathe,
And ftain heaven's azure with the fhade of death.
May ten-fold darkness from that dreadful

night

Extend thy hand, thou kind all-gracious God,
Down from the heavenof heavensthybrightabode,
And thield mefrom my foes, whofe towering pride
Lowers like a storm, and gathers like a tide:
Against strange children vindicate my caufe,
Who curfe thy name, and trample on thy laws,To ftain the fhining circle of the year:
Who fear not vengeance which they never felt, There through her dufky range may filence
Train'd to blafpheme, and eloquent in guilt:
Their hands are impious, and their deeds profane;
They plead their boafted innocence in vain.

Seize and arreft the straggling gleams of light;
To pay due vengeance for its fatal crime,
Still be it banished from the train of time;
Nor in the radiant lift of months appear,

Thy name thall dwell for ever on my tongue,
And guide the ficred numbers of my fong:
To thee my Mufe thall confecrate her lays,
And every note shall labour in thy praise;
The hallow'd theme fhall teach me how to fing,
Swell on the lyre, and tremble on the string.
Oft has thy hand from fight the sonarch led,
When death flew raging, and the battle bled;
And fnatch'd thy fervant in the last despair
From all the rifing tumult of the war.

Against range children vindicate my caufe,
Who curfe thy name and trample on thy laws;
That our fair fons may fmile in early bloom,
Our fons, the hopes of all our years to come:
Like plants that nurs'd by fostering showers arife,
And lift their spreading honours to the skies:
That our chafte daughters may their charms
difplay,

Like the bright pillars of our temple, gay,
Polifh'd, and tall, and imooth, and fair as they.

roam,

There may no ray, no glimpse of gladness come;
No voice to cheer the folitary gloom.
May every ftar his gaudy light with-hold,
Nor through the vapour fhoot his beamy gold;
Nor let the dawn with radiant fkirts come on,
Tipp'd with the glories of the rifing fun;
Because that dreadful period fix'd my doom,
Nor feal'd the dark receffes of the womb.
To that original my ills I owe;
Heir of affliction, and the fon of woe.
Oh! had I died unexercis'd in pain,
And wak'd to life, to fleep in death again!
Why did not Fate attend me at my birth,
And give me back to my congenial earth?
Why was I, when an infant, footh'd to rest,
Lull'd on the knee, or hung upon the breaft >
For now the grave would all my cares compote,
Conceal my forrows, and inter my woes:
There wrapp'd & lock'd within his cold embrace
Safe had I'lumber'd in the arms of peace;
clouds of incenfe, and in beds of gold:
There with the mighty kings, who lie inroll

There

Ther with the princes, who in grandeur thone,
And the trembling nations from the throne,
And loo an equal reft must have,
And are the dark retirement of the grave;
Oras & fpelets embryo the tomb,
Rade and imperfect from the abortive womb:
Ere nation's early principle began,

Or the dam fuoitance kindled into man. [ceafe,
There from their monitrous crimes the wicked
Their larong guilt is weary'd into peace;
Ther hewleep the coward and the brave;)
Stretch with his lord, the undistinguish'd slave
Eye common refuge of the grave.
An eo lot the mighty victor fhares,
Asc tes amidit the captives of his wars;
With, thofe captives mingle their remains,
The ame in death, nor leffen'd by their chains.
Why are we doom`d to view the genial ray?
Why'd to bear the painful light of day?
Chat joy the wretches yield their breath,
And pant in bitterness of foul for death!
Aarch prize the distant bliss they crave,
Aat fad the glorious treasure in the grave.
Why the wretch condemn'd without relief

Toot woe, and tread the round of grief,
When the toils of fate his God has bound,

And down the line of miferies around?

When mature calls for aid, my fighs intrude,
Ay tan prevent iny neceflary food:
Like a ful stream o'ercharg'd my forrows flow,
a burts of anguish, and a tide of woe;
For now the dire affliction which I fled,
Pasike a roaring torrent on my head.
Mytors the phantom view'd,and wrought
The dreadful image into every thought:
At

pluck'd down, the fatal ftroke I feel, And the fancy'd in the real ill.

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Tin man complain and murmur ftill, And on terms with his Creator's will? Ets high privilege to clay be given ? dat arraign the providence of Heaven? con's ine the boundless distance scan ? ve Heav'ns awful majesty to man? ha length his vaft dimensions run!

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beyond the journeys of the fun! gyon golden balls of light on high, Anch'd the planets through the liquid sky: Ing worlds he mark'd the certain space, Fat and fuitain'd the elemental peace. Amber'd as thofe worlds his armies move,

e gay legions guard his realms above; seth' ethereal plains the myriads rife, Ar their flaming ranks along the fkies: Fir bright arms inceffant fplendorsftream, As

wide azure kindles with the gleam. To low world he bids the light repair, Dewaugh the gulphs of undulating air; For mas he taught the glorious fun to roll This bright barrier to his western goal,

How then shall man, thus infolently proud,
Plead with his judge, and combat with his God?
How from his mortal mother can he come
Unftain'd from fin, untinctur'd from the womb?

The Lord, from his fublime empyreal throne,
As a dark globe regards the filver moon.
Thofe stars, that grace the wide celestial plain,
Are but the humbleft sweepings of his train,
Dim are the brighteft fplendors of the sky;
And the fun darkens in Jehovah's eye.
But does not fin diifufe a fouler ftain,
Aud thicker darkness cloud the foul of man?
Shall he the depths of endless wifdom know?
This thort-liv'd fovereign of the world below?
His frail original confounds his boast, [duft.
Sprung from the ground, and quicken'd from the

§ 25. The Song of Mofes in the Fifteenth Chap-
ter of Exodus, paraphrafed. Pitt.
THEN to the Lord the vast triumphant throng
Of Ifrael's fons, with Mofes, rais'd the fong.
To God our grateful accents will we raife,
And every tongue fhall celebrate his praife:
Behold the Lord triumphant in the fight!
Behold difplay'd the wonders of his might;
With what immortal fame and glory grac'd!
How did his power the steeds and riders tweep
What trophies rais'd amid the watery waste!
whom should we fear, while he, heaven's awful
Ingulph'd in heaps, & whelm'dbeneath the deep!
Unfheaths for Ifrael his avenging fword? [Lord,
His outstretch'd arm, and tutelary care,
His mercy eas'd us from our circling pains,
Guarded and fav'd us in the last defpair:
To him our God, our father's God, we'll rear
Unbound our fhackles, and unlock'd our chains.
A facred tempie, and adore him there
With vows and incenfe, facrifice and prayer.

The Lord commands in war: his matchlefs
might

Hangs out and guides the balance of the fight:
By him the war the mighty leaders form,
And teach the hovering tumult where to storm,
His name, O Ifrael, heaven's eternal Lord,
For ever honour'd, reverenc'd, and ador'd.

When to the fight, from Egypt's fruitful foil,
Pour'd forth in myriads all the fons of Nile;
The Lord o'erthrew the courfer and the car,
Sunk Pharaoh's pride, and overwhelm'd his war,
Beneath th' encumber'd deeps his legions lay,
For many a league impurpling all the fea:
The chiefs, and steeds, and warriors whirl'd
around,

Lay 'midit the roarings of the furges drown'd,
Who fhall thy power, thou mighty God, with-

ftand,

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