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Lo.iden with fairest Fruit, that hung to th' -Eye
Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden Appetite
To pluek and eat; whereat I wak'd, and sound
Before m^jfF.yes all real, as the Dream
Had lively ihadow'd: Here had new begun
My Wand'ring, had not he who was my Guide
Up hither, from among the Trees appear'd,
Presence divine. Rejoicing, but with Awe,
In Adoration at his Feet I sell
Submiss: He rear'd me, and Whom thou sought'st. lam,
Said mildly, Author of all this thou seest
Above, or round about thee, or beneath.
-\4am asiEve'f Morning HYMN. Milton.
THESE are thy glorious Works, Parent of Good!
Almighty ! thine this univerfal Frame,
Thus wond'rous fair: Thyself how wond'rous then?
Uoipeakable, who sit'st above these Heavens,
To us invisible, or dimly seen
in these thy lowest Works; yet these declare
Jhy Goodness beyond Thought, and Pow'r divine,
Speak ye who best can tell, Ye Sons of Light,
Angels; sor ye behold him, and with Songs
And choral Symphonies, Day without*Night,
Circle his. Throne rejoicing; ye in Heaven:
On Earth join all ye Creatures to extol
Him sirst, him last, him midst, and without End.
Fairest of Stars, last in the Train of Night,
"better thou belong not to the Dawn,
Sure Pledge of Day, that crown'st the smiling Morn
With thy bright Circlet, praise him in thy Sphere,
Whil» Day arises, that sweet Hour of Prime.
Thou Sun, of this great World both Eye and Soul,
Acknowledge him thy Greater, sound his Praise
In thy Eternal Course, both when thou clfanb'st,
And when high Noon hast gain'd, and when thou
Moon, that now meet'st the orient Sun, now sly'it,
With the six'd Sta*rs, six'd in their Orb that flies,
And ye sive other wand'ring Fires that move
In mystic Dance not without Song, resound
His Praise, who out of Darkness call'd up Light.
Air, and ye Elements, the eldest Birth
Of Nature's Womb, that in Quaternion run
Perpetual Circle, multisorm; and mix
And nourish all Things; let your ceaseless Change
Vary to our great Maker still new Praise. -
Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise
From Hill or steaming Lake, dusky or grey,
Till the Sun paint your fleecy Skirts with Gold,
In Honour to the World's great Author rise;
Whether to deck with Clouds th' uncolour'd Sky,
Or wet the thirsty Earth with falling Showers,
Rising or falling still advance his Praise.
His Praise, ye WinBgthat from sour Quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your Tops, ye Pines,
With every Plant, in Sign of Worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow,
Melodious Murmurs, warbling tune his Praise.
Join Voices all ye living Souls; ye Birds,
That singing up to Heaven Gate ascend,
Bear on your Wings, and in your Notes his P/aHe-
Ye that in Waters glide, and ye that walk
The Earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
tV'itness if I be silent, Morn or Even,
To Hill or Valley, Fountain, or fresh Shade
Made vocal by my Song, and taught his Praiie.
Hail univugfal Lord! be bounteous still
To give iis only Good; and if the Night
Have gather'd ought of Evil, or conceal'd,
Disperse it, as now Light dispels the Dark.
THOMSON'S HTMNon the Creation.
THESE, as the'y change, Almighty Father,
Are but the varied Gon. The rolling Year
Is fuWotThee, Forth in the pleasing Spring
Thy Beauty Walks, thy Tenderness and Love.
Wideilaih the Fields ; the softening Air-is Balm;
Echo the Mountains round; the Forest smiles;
And every Sense, and .every Heart is Joy.
Then comes thy Glory in the Summer Months,
With Light and Heat refulgent. Then thy Sun -
Shoots full Persection thro' the swelling Year:
And oft thy"Voice it* dreadful Thunder speaks;
And oft at Dawn, deep Noon, or falling Eve,-' J
By Brooks and Groves, vot- hollow whispering
Thy Bounty shines in Autumn unconsin'd,
And spreads a common Feast for all that live.
In Winter awful Thou! with Clouds and Storms
Around Thee thrown, Tempest o'er Tempest
roll'd, Majestic Darkness! on the Whirlwind's Wing; K-iding ftiblime, Thou bid'st the World adore,' And humblest-Nature with thy Northern Blast.
Mysterious Round! what Skill, what Force divin Deep-felt, i'.t theie appear! a simple Train, Yet so delightful mix'd; with such kind Art, Such Beauty and Benesicence combin'dSj Shade, unperceiv'd, so softening into Shade; And all so sorming an harmonious Whole; That, as they still succeed, they ravish stilL But wand'ring oft, with Brute unconscious Gaze, Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty Hand, That, ever busy, wheels the silent Spheres; Works in the secret Deep ; moots, steaming, thence Tne fair Profusioii that o'erspreads the Spring: Flings from the Sun direct the flaming Day; Feeds ev'ry Creature; hurls the Tempest lbrth, And, as on Earth this graceful Change revolves, With tranibort touches all die Springs of Life.
Nature, attend ! join every living Soul, Beneath the spacious Temple of the Sky, In Adoration join ; and, ardent, raise One general Song! To Him, ye vocal Gales, Breathe soft, whose Spirit in your Freshness breathes: Oh talk of Him in solitary Glooms ! . Where, o'er the Rock, the scarcely waving Pine Fills the brown Shade with a religious Awe. And ye, whose bolder Note is heard afar, Who shake th' astonish'd World, lift high to Heaven Th' impetuous Song, and fay from whom you rage. His Praise, ye Brooks, attune, ye trembling Rills; And let me catch it as I muse along, Ye headlong Torrents, rapid, and prosound; Ye softer-Floods, that lead the humid Maze Along the Vale; and thou, majestic Main,
LA secret World of Wonders in thyself,
Sound his "stupendous Praise ; whose greater Voice
Or bids you roar, or bids your Roarings fall.
Soft-roli your Incense, Herbs, and Fruits, and
In mingled Clouds to Him ; whose Sun exalts,
Whose Breath perfumes you, and whose Pencil paints.
Ye Forests ber.d, ye Harvests wave, to Him;
Breathe your still Song into the Reaper's Heart,
As Home he goes beneath the jcyous Moon.
Ye that keep Watch in Heaven, as Earth allecp
Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest Beams.
Ye Constellations, while your Angels st-ike,
Amid the spangled Sky, the stiver Lyre.
Great Source of Day! best Image here below
Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide
From World to World, the vital Ocean round,
On Nature write with ev'ry Beam his Praise.
The Thunder rolls: Be husiVd the prostrate World;
While Cloud to Cloud returns the solemn Hymn.
Bleat ouf afresh, ye Hills: Ye mossy Rocks,
Retain the Sound: The broad responsive Low,
Ye Vallies, raise ; sor the Great Shepherd reigns;
And his unsufftrir.g Kingdom yet will come.
Ye Woodlands all, awake! A boundless Song
Burst from the Groves! and when the restless Day,
Expiring, lays the warbling World asleep,
Sweetest of Birds! sweet Philomela, charm
The list'ning Shades, and teach the Night his Praise.
Ye Chief, for whom the whole Creation smiles;
At once the Head, the Heart, and Tongue of all,
Crown the great Hymn ! in swarming Cities vast,
Assembled.Men, to the deep Organ join
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