POETRY. S7$ 



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<• Oft may'st thou sec him on the icy brink 

 <« Of yon quick stream, — or 'gainst that Cedar's rind 

 *' Recline and think, — or rather seem to think ! 

 *' For melancholy vacateth his mind ! 



" — He looks about, — yet heedfcth not the while, — 

 " Then some old proverb spouts, — arraigning man ! 

 *' Then knits his brow, — then seems to force a smils — 

 <* Then ends his day in tears, — as it began ! 



*' — Yet doth benevolence his bosom warm, 

 <' And he will give thee all his humble fare ! 

 *' Yet doth meek piety his sorrows charm : 

 " And hark ! his matin song assails the ear J 



*' As thy sun rises splendid to the day, 

 ^' Father of light, — be all thanksgiving thine! 

 ^' As thy cloud shadows nature from the ray, 

 *' Just Resignation, be the worlds, — and mine! 



*' Mine to the tempests from thy chast'ning hand, 

 ** As hill and valley to thy winds and rain ! 

 ^' When nature labours, — shall frail man withstand ? 

 <'-When thy frown darkens all — shall one complain i 



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*' Quick from the earth this cloud shed mist shall go, 

 " And all the brilliant scene appear again : 

 " And man, — the storms of life shall weather thro' ; 

 *' In the brightglories of thine eye to reign! 



*' Thanks then for all the ills my soul hath known! 

 *' For the rude blast that chills this bosom so ; 

 " Far the sharp lash that made this body groan ; 

 *' For all, — that love and pertidy could do ! 



" Thanks then, O God — for all my hapless days, 

 ^' For every pang, this world of woes has given ! 

 ^' My griefs I cherish, — and thy bounty praise, — 

 ^' Their great reward, — 'for ever thee and heaven ! 



RHAPSODY 



