Wake all ye mounting tribes, and fing;
Ye plumy warblers of the spring,

Harmonious anthems raife

TO HIM Who fhap'd your finer mould,
Who tipp'd your glitt'ring wings with gold,
And tun'd your voice to praife.

Let man, by nobler paffions fway'd,
The feeling heart the judging head,
In heav'nly praise employ ;
Spread his tremendous name around,
Till heav'n's broad arch rings back the found,
The gen'ral burst of joy.

Ye whom the charms of grandeur please,
Nurs'd on the downy lap of eafe,

Fall proftrate at his throne:

Ye princes, rulers, all adore;

Praise him, ye kings, who makes your pow'r
An image of his own.

Ye fair by nature form'd to move,
O praise th' eternal SOURCE OF LOVE,
With youth's enliv'ning fire:

Let age take up the tuneful lay,
Sigh his bleft name; then foar away,
And afk an angel's lyre.

SECTION XV.

The Universal Prayer.

FATHER OF ALL! in ev'ry age,

In ev'ry clime, ador'd,

By faint, by favage, and by fage,

Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou GREAT FIRST CAUSE, leaft, understood,

Who all my fenfe confin'd,

To know but this, that Thou art good,

And that myself am blind;

Yet give me, in this dark eftate,.

To fee the good from ill;

And binding nature faft in fate,
Left free the human will;
Y

OGILVIE.

What confcience dictates to be done,

Or warns me not to do,

This teach me more than hell to fhun, That more than heav'n purfue. What bleffings thy free bounty gives Let me not caft away;

For God is paid, when man receives;
T' enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to earth's contracted fpan
Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round.
Let not this weak, unknowing hand
Prefume thy bolts to throw;
And deal damnation round the land,
On each I judge thy foe.

If I am right, thy grace impart,
Still in the right to stay ;
If I am wrong, oh teach my heart
To find that better way !

Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious difcontent,

At aught thy wildom has denied,
Or aught thy goodness lent.
Teach me to feel another's wo,
To hide the fault I fee;
That mercy I to other's fhow,
That mercy fhow to me.
Mean tho' I am, not wholly fo,
Since quicken'd by thy breath;
O lead me wherefoe'er I
go,

Thro' this day's life or death!

This day, be bread and peace my lot: All eife beneath the fun

Thou know'it if best bestow'd or not,
And let thy will be done.

To thee, whose temple is all space,
Whofe altar, earth, fea, fkies!

One chorus let all being raife!

All Nature's incense rise.

SECTION XVI.

Conscience.

POPE.

O treach'rous confcience! while fhe feems to fleep
On rofe and myrtle, lull'd with firen song;
While the feems, nodding o'er her charge, to drop
On headlong appetite the flacken'd rein,
And give us up to licence, unrecalled,
Unmark'd; fee, from behind her fecret ftand,
The fly informer minutes ev'ry fault,
And her dread diary with horror fills.
Not the grofs act alone employs her pen ;.
She reconnoitres fancy's airy band,

A watchful foe! the formidable ipy,
Lift'ning, o'erhears the whifpers of our camp;
Our dawning purposes of heart explores,
And steals our embryos of iniquity.

As all rapacious ufurers conceal

Their doomsday book from all confuming heirs ;
Thus, with indulgence most severe, the treats
Us fpend-thrifts of ineftimable time;

Unnoted, notes each moment mifapply'd;

In leaves more durable than leaves of brafs,
Writes our whole hiftory; which death fhall read
In ev'ry pale delinquent's private ear;

And judgment publish; publish to more worlds
Than this; and endless age in groans refound.

SECTION XVII.

On an Infant.

To the dark and filent tomb,
Soon I hafted from the womb :
Scarce the dawn of life began,
Ere I measur'd out my span.
I no fimiling pleasures knew
I no gay delights could view :
Joylefs fojourner was I,
Only born to weep and die.

YOUNG.

Happy infant, early blefs'd!
Reft, in peaceful slumber, rest;
Early refcu'd from the cares,
Which increase with growing years.
No delights are worth thy ftay,
Smiling as they feem, and gay;
Short and fickly are they all,
Hardly tafted ere they pall.
All our gaiety is vain,
All our laughter is but pain:
Lafting only, and divine,
Is an innocence like thine.

SECTION XVIII.

The Cuckoo.

HAIL beauteous ftranger of the wood,
Attendant on the Spring!
Now heav'n requires thy rural feat,
And woods thy welcome fing.

Soon as the daify decks the green,
Thy certain voice we hear:
Haft thou a ftar to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?
Delightful vifitant with thee

I hail the time of flow'rs,

When heav'n is fill'd with mufic fweet
Of birds among the bow'rs.

The school-boy wand'ring in the wood,
To pull the flow'rs fo gay,

Starts, thy curious voice to hear,
And imitates thy lay.

Soon as the pea puts on the bloom,
Thou fly'ft thy vocal vale,
An annual gueft, in other lands,
Another fpring to hail.

Sweet bird thy bow'r is ever green,

Thy fky is ever clear;

Thou hatt no forrow in thy fong,

No winter in thy year!

O could I fly, I'd fly with thee:
We'd make, with focial wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,
Companions of the Spring.

SECTION XIX.

DAY. A Pastoral in three parts.

MORNING.

IN the barn the tenant cock,

Clofe to Partlet perch'd on high,
Brifkly crows, (the fhepherd's clock !)
Jocund that the morning's nigh.
Swiftly, from the mountain's brow,
Shadow's nurs❜d by night retire ;
And the peeping funbeam, now,
Paints with gold the village spire.
Philomel forfakes the thorn,
Plaintive where the prates at night;
And the lark to meet the morn,
Soars beyond the fhepherd's fight.
From the low roof'd cottage ridge,
See the chatt'ring fwallow fpring;
Darting through the one arch'd bridge,
Quick the dips her dappled wing.
Now the pine tree's waving top
Gently greets the morning gale ;-
Kidlings now begin to crop
Daifies, on the dewy vale.
From the balmy fweets uncloy'd,
(Reftlefs till her task be done,)
Now the bufy bee's employ'd,
Sipping dew before the fun.
Trickling through the crevic'd rock,
Where the limpid ftream diftils,
Sweet refreshment waits the flock,
When 'tis fun drove from the hills.
Colin's for the promis'd corn

(Ere the harvest hopes are ripe) Anxious; whilft the huntfman's horn, Boldly founding, drowns his pipe.

LOGAN,