’Tis morning; and the sun with rud… Ascending, fires the horizon: whil… That crowd away before the driving… More ardent as the disk emerges mo… Resemble most some city in a blaze…

Grant me the Muse, ye gods! whose… Seeks not the mountain-top’s perni… Who can the tall Parnassian cliff… To visit oft the still Lethean la… Now her slow pinions brush the sil…

What portents, from what distant r… Unseen till now in ours, the aston… In ages past, old Proteus, with h… Of sea-calves, sought the mountain… But now, descending whence of late…

Sin enslaved me many years, And led me bound and blind; Till at length a thousand fears Came swarming o’er my mind. “Where,” said I, in deep distress…

Mortals! around your destined head… Thick fly the shafts of death, And lo! the savage spoiler spreads A thousand toils beneath. In vain we trifle with our fate,

You give your cheks a rosy stain, With washes dye your hair; But paint and washes both are vain To give a youthful air. Those wrinkles mock your daily toi…

The new-born child of gospel grace… Like some fair tree when summer’s… Beneath Emmanuel’s shining face Lifts up his blooming branch on hi… No fears he feels, he sees no foes…

Time was when I was free as air, The thistle’s downy seed my fare, My drink the morning dew; I perch’d at will on every spray, My form genteel, my plumage gay,

Winter has a joy for me, While the Saviour’s charms I read… Lowly, meek, from blemish free, In the snowdrop’s pensive head. Spring returns, and brings along

Breathe from the gentle south, O… And cheer me from the north; Blow on the treasures of thy word, And call the spices forth! I wish, Thou knowest, to be resig…

Delia, the unkindest girl on earth… When I besought the fair, That favour of intrinsic worth A ringlet of her hair, Refused that instant to comply

(Phillipians, IV.11) Fierce passions discompose the min… As tempests vex the sea, But calm, content and peace we fin… When, Lord, we turn to Thee.

Other stones the era tell, When some feeble mortal fell; I stand here to date the birth Of these hardy sons of earth. Which shall longest brave the sky,

To Jesus, the crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone; O bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to His throne! My Saviour, whom absent I love,

The pine-apples, in triple row, Were basking hot, and all in blow; A bee of most discerning taste Perceived the fragrance as he pass… On eager wing the spoiler came,