Where with intention I have err'd, But, Thou art good; and goodness still STANZAS ON THE SAME OCCASION. WHY am I loth to leave this earthly scene! Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark, abode? For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms; I tremble to approach an angry God, And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod. Fain would I say, 'Forgive my foul offence !' Fain promise, never more to disobey; But, should my Author health again dispense, Again I might desert fair virtue's way; Again in folly's path might go astray: Again exalt the brute, and sink the man; Then how should I for heavn❜ly mercy pray, Who counteract so heav'nly mercy's plan? Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation ran. O thou great Governor of all below! If I may dare a lifted eye to Thee, To rule the torrent in th' allowed line: O, aid me with thy help, Omnipotence Divine ! LYING AT A REVEREND FRIEND'S HOUSE ONE NIGHT, THE AUTHOR LEFT THE FOLLOWING VERSES IN A ROOM WHERE HE SLEPT. O THOU dread Pow'r, who reign'st above! I know thou wilt me hear, The hoary sire-the mortal stroke, And show what good men are. She, who her lovely offspring eyes Their hope, their stay, their darling youth, Bless him, thou God of love and truth, The beauteous, seraph, sister-band, Thou know'st the snares on ev'ry hand, Guide thou their step alway. When soon or late they reach that coɛst, May they rejoice, no wand'rer lost, • Dr. Laurie, then minister of the parish of Loudos. THE FIRST PSALM. THE man, in life wherever plac'd, Hath happiness in store, Who walks not in the wicked's way, Nor from the seat of scornful pride Still walks before his God. That man shall flourish like the trees But he whose blossom buds in guilt For why? that GOD the good adore, A PRAYER, UNDER THE PRESSURE OF VIOLENT ANGUISH. O THOU Great Being! what thou art Surpasses me to know: Yet sure I am, that known to thee Are all thy works below. Thy creature here before thee stands, All wretched and distrest; Yet sure those ills that wring my soul Sure thou, Almighty, canst not act O, free my weary eyes from tears, But if I must afflicted be, To suit some wise design; Then man my soul with firm resolves THE FIRST SIX VERSES OF THE NINETIETH PSALM. O THOU, the first, the greatest friend Of all the human race! Whose strong right hand has ever been Before the mountains heav'd their heads Before this pond'rous globe itself That pow'r that rais'd and still upholds From countless unbeginning time Those mighty periods of years Which seem to us so vast, Appear no more before thy sight Than yesterday that's past. Thou giv'st the word: Thy creature, man, Is to existence brought; · Again thou say'st, Ye sons of men, Thou layest them, with all their cares As with a flood thou tak'st them off They flourish'd like the morning flow'r, In beauty's pride array'd; But long ere night cut down it lies, All wither'd and decay'd. TO RUIN. ALL hail! inexorable lord! And quivers in my heart; Then lowering and pouring, The storm no more I dread; Though thickening and blackening Round my devoted head. And thou grim pow'r,by life abhorr'd, Whe shall my soul, in silent peace, My weary heart its throbbing cease, |