Praise in old time the sage Prome… Who stole ethereal radiance from t… But greater he, whose bold inventi… To emulate the fiery bolts of Jov…

Seest thou yon mountain laden with… The groves beneath their fleecy bu… The streams congeal’d, forget to f… Come, thaw the cold, and lay a che… Of fuel on the hearth;

Oh! to some distant scene, a willi… From the wild roar of this busy wo… Were it my fate with Delia to ret… With her to wander through the syl… Each morn, or o’er the moss-embrow…

Gracious Lord, our children see, By Thy mercy we are free; But shall these, alas! remain Subjects still of Satan’s reign? Israel’s young ones, when of old

Grace, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway; Cast your idol works away! Works of man, when made his plea,

’Tis my happiness below Not to live without the cross, But the Saviour’s power to know, Sanctifying every loss; Trials must and will befall;

These verses also to thy praise th… Oh Manso! happy in that theme des… For, Gallus and Maecenas gone, th… None such besides, or whom they lo… And, if my verse may give the meed…

The Bard, if e’er he feel at all, Must sure be quickened by a call Both on his heart and head, To pay with tuneful thanks the car… And kindness of a lady fair

How happy are the new–born race, Partakers of adopting grace! How pure the bliss they share! Hid from the world and all its eye… Within their heart the blessing li…

(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.

Did not my Muse (what can she les… Perceive her own unworthiness, Could she by some well-chosen them… But hope to merit your esteem, She would not thus conceal her lay…

What various hindrances we meet In coming to a mercy seat! Yet who that knows the worth of pr… But wishes to be often there? Prayer makes the darken’d cloud wi…

They mock my toil—the nymphs and a… And whence this fond attempt to wr… Love-songs in language that thou l… How dar’st thou risque to sing the… Say truly. Find’st not oft thy pu…

Could I, from Heaven inspired, as… To whom the rising year shall prov… As I can number in my punctual pa… And item down the victims of the p… How each would trembling wait the…

‘Write to Sardis,’ saith the Lord… ‘And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars: All thy works and ways I search,