Soul, dost thou shudder at the narrow tomb?
Heart, dost thou dread to moulder in the dust—
To meet the fate that all things mortal must,
Strength in its pride, and beauty in its bloom?
What have ye done to merit nobler doom?
How used one life that ye for more should lust?
Time in his course doth all things downward thrust:
The unborn generations wait for room!
Blind we were born, blind die: yet we must still
Take God to task with Whither? Whence? and Why?
What if God, giving us our wish and will,

When I behold what pleasure is pursuit,
What life, what glorious eagerness it is;
Then mark how full possession falls from this,
How fairer seems the blossom than the fruit --
I am perplexed, and often stricken mute
Wondering which attained the higher bliss,
The wingèd insect, or the chrysalis
It thrust aside with unreluctant foot.
Spirit of verse, that still elud'st my art,
Thou uncaught rapture, thou swift-fleeting fire,
O let me follow thee with hungry heart
If beauty's full possession kill desire!

v.13ff
C. M.
Breathing after heaven.

Return, O God of love, return;
Earth is a tiresome place:
How long shall we, thy children, mourn
Our absence from thy face?

Let heav'n succeed our painful years,
Let sin and sorrow cease,
And in proportion to our tears
So make our joys increase.

Thy wonders to thy servants show,
Make thy own work complete;
Then shall our souls thy glory know,
And own thy love was great.

Then shall we shine before thy throne
In all thy beauty, Lord;

The church's prayer under affliction; or, The vineyard of God wasted.

Great Shepherd of thine Israel,
Who didst between the cherubs dwell,
And lead the tribes, thy chosen sheep,
Safe through the desert and the deep;

Thy church is in the desert now,
Shine from on high and guide us through;
Turn us to thee, thy love restore,
We shall be saved and sigh no more.

Great God, whom heav'nly hosts obey,
How long shall we lament and pray,
And wait in vain thy kind return?
How long shall thy fierce anger burn?

The rich sinner's death, and the saint's resurrection.

Why do the proud insult the poor,
And boast the large estates they have?
How vain are riches to secure
Their haughty owners from the grave!

They can't redeem one hour from death,
With all the wealth in which they trust;
Nor give a dying brother breath,
When God commands him down to dust.

There the dark earth and dismal shade
Shall clasp their naked bodies round;
That flesh, so delicately fed,
Lies cold and moulders in the ground.

v.10-14
S. M.
The beauty of the church; or, Gospel worship and order.

Far as thy name is known,
The world declares thy praise;
Thy saints, O Lord, before thy throne,
Their songs of honor raise.

With joy let Judah stand
On Zion's chosen hill,
Proclaim the wonders of thy hand,
And counsels of thy will.

Let strangers walk around
The city where we dwell,
Compass and view thine holy ground,
And mark the building well;

The orders of thy house,
The worship of thy court,
The cheerful songs, the solemn vows,

v.9-13
C. M.
Sick-bed devotion.

God of my life, look gently down,
Behold the pains I feel;
But I am dumb before thy throne,
Nor dare dispute thy will.

Diseases are thy servants, Lord,
They come at thy command;
I'll not attempt a murm'ring word
Against thy chast'ning hand.

Yet I may plead with humble cries,
Remove thy sharp rebukes;
My strength consumes, my spirit dies,
Through thy repeated strokes.

Crushed as a moth beneath thy hand,
We moulder to the dust;
Our feeble powers can ne'er withstand,

v.1-6
C. M.
The church is our delight and safety.

The Lord of glory is my light,
And my salvation too;
God is my strength, nor will I fear
What all my foes can do.

One privilege my heart desires;
O grant me an abode
Among the churches of thy saints,
The temples of my God!

There shall I offer my requests,
And see thy beauty still;
Shall hear thy messages of love,
And there inquire thy will.

When troubles rise, and storms appear,
There may his children hide;
God has a strong pavilion where

The heavenly frame sets forth the fame
Of him that only thunders;
The firmament, so strangely bent,
Shows his handworking wonders.

Day unto day doth it display,
Their course doth it acknowledge,
And night to night succeeding right
In darkness teach clear knowledge.

There is no speech, no language which
Is so of skill bereaved,
But of the skies the teaching cries
They have heard and conceived.

There be no eyen but read the line
From so fair book proceeding,
Their words be set in letters great

v.12-15
L. M.
Grace above riches; or, The happy nation.

Happy the city where their sons,
Like pillars round a palace set,
And daughters, bright as polished stones,
Give strength and beauty to the state.

Happy the country where the sheep,
Cattle, and corn, have large increase;
Where men securely work or sleep,
Nor sons of plunder break the peace.

Happy the nation thus endowed,
But more divinely blest are those
On whom the all-sufficient God
Himself with all his grace bestows.