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HAPPY FREEDOM OF THE MAN WHOM GRACE MAKES FREE.
(COWPER.) He is the freeman, whom the truth makes free; ! And all are slaves beside. | There's not a chain | That hellish foes, confederate for his harm, Can wind around him, but he casts it off With as much ease as Samson his green withes. I He looks abroad into the varied field Of nature, , and, though poor, perhaps, ' compared With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, I Calls the delightful scenery all his own. His are the mountains; I and the valleys his; ] And the resplendent riv'ers: his to enjoy! With a propriety that none can feel, 1 But who, with filial confidence inspired, I Can life to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, 1 And, smiling, say,-- |“ My Father made them all!", Are they not his by a peculiar right', 1 And by an emphasis of in terest his, 1 Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy', ! Whose heart with praise', ' and whose exalted mind With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love That plannd, and built,' and still upholds a world So clothed with beauty, for rebellious man? | Yes' - ' ye may fill your garners, / ye that reap The loaded soil, and ye may waste much good In senseless riot ; but ye will not find In feast', or in the chase, in song', or dance', A liberty like his, / who, unimpeach'd Of usurpation, and to no man's wrong, I Appropriates nature as his Fa ther's work, And has a richer use of yours than you. I He is indeed a freeman: 1 free by birth Of no mean city,' plann'd or ere the hills
Were built, the fountains open'd, or the sea' |
THE EXILE OF ERIN.
(CAMPBELL.) There came to the beach, a poor exile of Erin; 1 The dew on his thin robe, was heavy, and chill
. ; 1 For his country he sigh'd when at twilight repairing,
To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill i But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion ;/ For it rose on his own native isle of the ocean, Where once, in the fervor of youth's warm emotion, I
He sung the bold anthem of Erin go bragh. 1
Sal is my fate! (said the heart-broken stranger)
The wildl-deer, and wolf to a covert can tlee; 1 But I have no refuge from famine, and danger:
A home, and a country remain not to me -1 Never again in the green sunny bowers, 1 Where my forefathers liv'd, shall I spend the sweet
hours, Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers, 1
And strike to the numbers of Erin go brngh !
Erin, my country! though sad, and forsaken,
In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore; But, alas! in a far foreign land, I awaken, 1
And sigh for the friends that can meet me no more. I O cruel fate! / wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace ! where no perils can chase' me? | Never again shall my brothers embrace' me, 1
They died to defend me, I or live to deplore ! | Where is my cab'in-door, | fast by the wild, wood ? | Sisters, and sire, did ye weep for its fall
' ? | Where is the mother that look'd on my childhood ? |
And where is the bosom-friend, dearer than all.? | O my sad soul! long abandon'd by pleasure, Why did it dote on a fast-fading treasure! Tears, like the rain-drops, may fall without meas'ure; ,
But rapture, and beauty they cannot recall. i Yet all its fond recollections suppressing,
One dying wish my lone bosom shall draw. :/ Erin! an exile bequeaths thee his blessing !
Land of my forefathers ! | Erin go bragh! Buried, and cold, when my heart stills her motion, Green be thy fields, sweetest isle of the ocean!! And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with devotion-- 1
Erin ma vournin ! - | Erin go bragh, !* |
THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE, WHO FELL AT THE
BATTLE OF CORUNNA.
(WOLFE.) Not a drum was heard, nor a funeral note', /
As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; ! Not a soldier discharg'd his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
• Ireland my darling! – Ireland for ever!
We buried him darkly at dead of night, 1
The sods with our bayonets turning,
And the lantern diinly burning. I
Nor in sheet, nor in shroud, we bound him ;
With his martial cloak around him.
And we spoke not a word of sorrow; /
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
And smooth'd down his lonely pillow, That the foe, and the stranger would tread o'er his
And we far away on the billow.
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him;
In the grave where a Briton has laid hiin.
When the clock told the hour for retiring; And we knew by the distant, and random gun,
That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly, and sadly we laid him down
From the field of his fame, fresh, and gory: 1 We carv'd not a line., - , we rais'd not a stone', ;
But left him alone in his glory. I
THE HEAVENS AND THE EARTH SHOW THE GLORY AND
THE WISDOM OF THEIR CREATOR, — THE EARTH HAPPILY ADAPTED TO THE NATURE OF MAN.
(GOLDSMITH.) The universe may be considered as the palace in which the Deity resides ; ) and the earth, as one of its apart,ments. | In this, all the meaner races of animated nature mechanically obey him; and stand ready to execute his commands without hesitation. 1 Man alone is found refrac tory: he is the only being, endued with a power of contradicting these mandates. i The Deity was pleased to exert superior power in creating him a superior being; | a being endued with a choice of good, and e'vil; i and capable, in some measure, I of co-operating with his own intentions. Man, therefore, I may be considered as a limited creature, | endued with powers, / imitative of those residing in the Deity. | He is thrown into a world that stands in need of his help'; and he has been granted a power of producing harmony from partial consusion. I
If, therefore, we consider the earth | as allotted for our habitation, I we shall find, that much has been given us to enjoy, / and much to amend; that we have ample reasons for our gratitude, I and many for our industry. | In those great outlines of nature, to which art cannot reach, I and where our greatest efforts must nave been ineffectual, I God himself has finished every thing / with amazing grandeur, and beauty. | Our beneficent Father | has considered these parts of nature as peculiarly his own ; | as parts which no creature could have skill, or strength to amend'; / and he has, therefore, made them incapable of altera tion, or of more perfect regularity. | The heavens, and the firmament I show the wisdom, and the glory of the Workman. | Astronomers, who are best skilled in the symmetry of systems, I can find nothing there that they can alter for the better. God made these perfect, because no subordinate being could correct their defects.
When, therefore, we survey nature on this side, | nothing can be more splendid, more correct, or amazing. We there behold a Deity I residing in the midst of a universe, infinitely extended every way, animating all, I and cheering the vacuity with his presence We behold an immense, and shapeless mass of matter,