2 This juggler is little, and ugly, and black, But, like Atlas, he stalks with the world at his back; 'Tis certain, all fear of the devil he scorns; Some say they are cousins; we know he wears horns. Derry down. 3 At hop, skip, and jump, who so famous as he? He hopp'd o'er an army, he skipp'd o'er the sea; And he jump'd from the desk of a village attorney To the throne of the Bourbons-a pretty long journey. Derry down. 4 He tosses up kingdoms the same as a ball, And his cup is so fashion'd it catches them all; The Pope and Grand Turk have been heard to declare His skill at the long bow has made them both stare. Derry down. 5 He has shown off his tricks in France, Italy, Spain; Derry down. 6 To encourage his puppets to venture this trip, Derry down. 7 This new Ketterfelto, his show to complete, Means his boats should all sink as they pass by our fleet; Then, as under the ocean their course they steer right on, They can pepper their foes from the bed of old Triton. Derry down. 8 If this project should fail, he has others in store; Derry down. 9 When Philip of Spain fitted out his Armada, Derry down. 10 Now if our rude tars will so crowd up the seas, That his boats have not room to go down when they please, Can't he wait till the Channel is quite frozen over, 11 How welcome he 'll be it were needless to say; HYMN. In Heaven we shall be purified, so as to be able to endure the splendours of the Deity. 1 AWAKE, sweet harp of Judah, wake, Retune thy strings for Jesus' sake; We sing the Saviour of our race, The Lamb, our shield and hiding-place. 2 When God's right arm is bared for war, 3 'Tis he, the Lamb, to him we fly, 4 Thus while we dwell in this low scene, 5 While yet we sojourn here below, 6 Yet, courage-days and years will glide, 7 Then pure, immortal, sinless, freed, A HYMN FOR FAMILY WORSHIP. 1 O LORD, another day is flown, And we, a lonely band, Are met once more before thy throne, 2 And wilt thou bend a listening ear Thou wilt for thou dost love to hear 3 And, Jesus, thou thy smiles wilt deign, For thou didst bless the infant train, 4 0 let thy grace perform its part, And shed abroad in every heart 5 Thus chasten'd, cleansed, entirely thine, A flock by Jesus led ; The Sun of Holiness shall shine In glory on our head. The last stanza of this hymn was added extemporaneously, by the Author, one summer evening, when he was with a few friends on the Trent, and singing it as he was used to do on such occasions. 6 And thou wilt turn our wandering feet, Till worlds shall fade, and faith shall greet THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. 1 WHEN, marshall'd on the nightly plain, The glittering host bestud the sky, One star alone, of all the train, Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. 2 Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks, 3 Once on the raging seas I rode, The storm was loud, the night was dark, The ocean yawn'd, and rudely blow'd The wind that toss'd my foundering bark. 4 Deep horror then my vitals froze, Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem; When suddenly a star arose It was the Star of Bethlehem. 5 It was my guide, my light, my all, It bade my dark forebodings cease; And through the storm and danger's thrall It led me to the port of peace. |