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Then from his Lordship I shall learn,
Henceforth to meet with unconcern

One rank as weel's another;
Nae honest, worthy man need care,
To meet with noble, youthful Daer,
For he but meets a brother.

·

A PRAYER.

Left in a room of a reverend friend'sı house, where the Author slept.

O THOU, dread Power who reign'st above!
I know thou wilt me hear;

When for this scene of peace and love,
I make my prayer sincere.

The hoary sire-the mortal stroke,
Long, long, be pleased to spare!

To bless his little filial flock,

And show what good men are.

She, who her lovely offspring eyes
With tender hopes and fears,
Oh bless her with a mother's joys,
But spare a mother's tears!

Their hope, their stay, their darling youth,
In manhood's dawning blush;

1 Dr. Laurie, minister of Loudoun, from whom the poet received many essential favors, one of which, and none of the least, will be best explained in his own words:-"I had taken the last farewell of my few friends-my chest was on the road to Greenock, from whence I was to embark in a few days for America. I had composed the last song I should ever measure in Caledonia, The gloomy night is gathering fast,' when a letter from Dr. Blacklock, to a friend of mine (Dr. Laurie, who had sent to Dr. Blacklock a copy of our Poet's works), overthrew all my schemes, by opening new prospects to my poetic ambition. The doctor belonged to a set of critics for whose applause I had not dared to hope. His opinion that I would meet with encouragement in Edinburgh for a second edition, fired me so much, that away I posted for that city, without a single acquaintance, or a single letter of introduction. The baneful star that had so long shed its blasting influence in my zenith, for once made a revolution to the nadir; and a kind Providence placed me under the patronage of one of the noblest of men, the Earl of Glencairn."

Bless him, thou God of love and truth,
Up to a parent's wish!

The beauteous seraph sister-band,
With earnest tears I pray,

Thou know'st the snares on every hand,
Guide thou their steps alway!

When soon or late they reach that coast,
O'er life's rough ocean driven,
May they rejoice, no wanderer lost,
A family in heaven!

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
Obey thy high behest.

Sure Thou, Almighty, canst not act
From cruelty or wrath!

Oh, free my weary eyes from tears!
Or close them fast in death!

But if I must afflicted be,

To suit some wise design;

Then man my soul with firm resolves
To bear and not repine!

A PRAYER,

IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH.

O THOU, unknown, Almighty cause
Of all my hope and fear!

In whose dread presence, ere an hour
Perhaps I must appear!

If I have wander'd in those paths
Of life I ought to shun;

As something, loudly, in my breast
Remonstrates I have done:

Thou know'st that Thou hast forméd me
With passions wild and strong;
And listening to their witching voice
Has often led me wrong.

Where human weakness has come short,
Or frailty stept aside,

Do Thou, All-Good! for such Thou art,
In shades of darkness hide.

Where with intention I have err'd,
No other plea I have,

But, Thou art good; and goodness still
Delighteth to forgive.

STANZAS ON THE SAME OCCASION.

WHY am I loth to leave this earthly scene?
Have I so found it full of pleasing charms?
Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between;
Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renewing storms.
Is it departing pangs my soul alarms;

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 heavenly mercy pray,
Who act so counter heavenly 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,
Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow,
Ör still the tumult of the raging sea;
With that controlling power assist even me,
Those headlong furious passions to confine,
For all unfit I feel my powers to be,

To rule their torrent in th' allowéd line;
Oh, aid me with thy help, Omnipotence Divine!

THE FIRST PSALM.

THE man in life, wherever placed,
Hath happiness in store,

Who walks not in the wicked's way,
Nor learns their guilty lore!

Nor from the seat of scornful pride
Casts forth his eyes abroad,
But with humility and awe
Still walks before his God.

That man shall flourish like the trees
Which by the streamlets grow;
The fruitful top is spread on high,
And firm the root below.

But he whose blossom buds in guilt,
Shall to the ground be cast,
And, like the rootless stubble, tost
Before the sweeping blast.

For why? That God, the good adore,
Hath given them peace and rest,
But hath decreed that wicked men
Shall ne'er be truly blest.

THE FIRST SIX VERSES OF THE 90TH PSALM.

O THOU, the first, the greatest Friend

Of all the human race!

Whose strong right hand has ever been
Their stay and dwelling-place!

Before the mountains heaved their heads
Beneath thy forming hand,
Before this ponderous globe itself
Arose at thy command:

That Power which raised and still upholds
This universal frame,

From countless, unbeginning time
Was ever still the same.

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 sayest, "Ye sons of men,
Return ye into naught!"

Thou layest them, with all their cares,
In everlasting sleep:

As with a flood thou tak'st them off
With overwhelming sweep.

They flourish like the morning flower,
In beauty's pride array'd;
But long ere night cut down it lies
All wither'd and decay'd.

A GRACE BEFORE DINNER.

O THOU, who kindly dost provide
For every creature's want!
We bless thee, God of Nature wide,
For all thy goodness lent:

And, if it please thee, heavenly Guide,

May never worse be sent;

But whether granted or denied,

Lord, bless us with content.-Amen.

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