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Of sixty years he seemed; and well might last

To sixty more, but that he lived too fast, Refined himself to soul, to curb the sense, And made almost a sin of abstinence. Yet had his aspect nothing of severe, But such a face as promised him sincere. Nothing reserved or sullen was to see; But sweet regards, and pleasing sanctity. Mild was his accent, and his action free. With eloquence innate his tongue was armed;

Though harsh the precept, yet the people charmed.

For, letting down the golden chain from high,

He drew his audience upward to the sky: And oft with holy hymns he charmed

their ears

(A music more melodious than the spheres );

For David left him, when he went to rest, His lyre; and after him he sung the best.

He bore his great commission in his look; But sweetly tempered awe, and softened

all he spoke.

He preached the joys of heaven and pains of hell,

And warned the sinner with becoming

zeal;

But on eternal mercy loved to dwell.

He taught the gospel rather than the law;

And forced himself to drive; but loved to draw.

For fear but freezes minds; but love, like heat,

Exhales the soul sublime, to seek her native seat.

To threats the stubborn sinner oft is hard, Wrapped in his crimes, against the storm prepared;

But when the milder beams of mercy play,

He melts, and throws his cumbrous cloak away.

Lightning and thunder (heaven's artillery)

As harbingers before the Almighty fly: Those but proclaim his style, and disappear;

The stiller sounds succeed, and God is there.

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JOSEPH ADDISON.

Who all night long unwearied sing
High praises to the eternal King.

All praise to Thee, who safe hast kept,
And hast refreshed me whilst I slept;
Grant, Lord, when I from death shall
wake,

I may of endless light partake.

Lord, I my vows to thee renew;
Disperse my sins as morning dew;

Guard my first springs of thought and will,

And with thyself my spirit fill.

Direct, control, suggest, this day,
All I design, or do, or say;
That all my powers, with all their might,
In thy sole glory may unite.

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;
Praise him, all creatures here below;
Praise him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Yet then from all my griefs, O Lord,
Thy mercy set me free,
Whilst in the confidence of prayer,

My faith took hold on thee.

47

For, though in dreadful whirls we hung,
High on the broken wave,

I knew thou wert not slow to hear,
Nor impotent to save.

The storm was laid, the winds retired
Obedient to thy will;

The sea, that roared at thy command,
At thy command was still.

In midst of dangers, fears, and death,
Thy goodness I'll adore,
And praise thee for thy mercies past,
And humbly hope for more.

My life, if thou preserv'st my life,
Thy sacrifice shall be;
And death, if death must be my doom,
Shall join my soul to thee.

JOSEPH ADDISON.

[1672-1719.]

HYMN.

How are thy servants blest, O Lord!
How sure is their defence!
Eternal Wisdom is their guide,
Their help Omnipotence.

In foreign realms and lands remote,
Supported by thy care,
Through burning climes I passed unhurt,

And breathed in tainted air.

Thy mercy sweetened every toil,
Made every region please;
The hoary Alpine hills it warmed,
And smoothed the Tyrrhene seas.

Think, O my soul, devoutly think,
How, with affrighted eyes,
Thou saw'st the wide extended deep
In all its horrors rise.

Confusion dwelt in every face, And fear in every heart;

PARAPHRASE OF PSALM XXIII.

THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye; My noonday walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.

When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountain pant,
To fertile vales and dewy meads
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
My weary, wandering steps he leads,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.

Though in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart shall fear no ill;
For thou, O Lord, art with me still :
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.

Though in a bare and rugged way, Through devions lonely wilds I stray, Thy bounty shall my wants beguile, The barren wilderness shall smile,

When waves on waves, and gulfs on gulfs, With sudden greens and herbage crowned,

O'ercame the pilot's art.

And streams shall murmur all around.

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