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Now, now confess,
'Twas some superior hand restrain’d their rage,
And tam'd their furious appetites.

'Tis true.
The God of Daniel is a mighty God;
He saves and He destroys.

O friend ! O Daniel !
No way'ring doubts can ever more disturb
My settled faith.

To God be all the glory!



“ Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die.” — ISAIAH, xxxviii.



What! and no more? - Is this, my soul, said I,
My whole of being ? – Must I surely die?
Be robb’d at once of health, of strength, of time,
Of youth's fair promise, and of pleasure's prime ?
Shall I no more behold the face of morn,
The cheerful daylight, and the spring's return?
Must I the festive bow'r, the banquet leave,
For the dull chambers of the darksome grave ?

Have I consider'd what it is to die?
In native dust with kindred worms to lie !
To sleep in cheerless cold neglect ! to rot!
My body loath’d, my very name forgot !
Not one of all those parasites, who bend
The supple knee, their monarch to attend !
What, not one friend ! No, not a hireling slave
Shall hail great HEZEKIAH in the grave.
Where's he, who falsely claim'd the name of Great?
Whose eye was terror, and whose frown was fate?
Who aw'd a hundred nations from the throne !
See where he lies, dumb, friendless, and alone!
Which grain of dust proclaims the noble birth ?

Which is the royal particle of earth ?
Where are the marks, the princely ensigns where ?
Which is the slave, and which great David's heir ?
Alas! the beggar's ashes are not known
From his, who lately sat on Israel's throne !

How stands my great account? My soul, survey
The debt ETERNAL JUSTICE bids thee pay!
Should I frail Memory's records strive to blot,
Will Heav'n's tremendous reck’ning be forgot ?
Can I, alas, the awful volume tear ?
Or rase one page of the dread register ?

Prepare thy house, thy heart in order set : Prepare the Judge of Hearn and Earth to meet.So spake the warning Prophet.— Awful words ! Which fearfully my troubled soul records. Am I prepar'd ? and can I meet my doom, Nor shudder at the dreaded wrath to come ? Is all in order set, my house, my heart? Does no besetting sin still claim a part ? No cherish'd error loth to quit its place, Obstruct within my soul the work of grace ! Did I each day for this great day prepare, By righteous deeds, by sin-subduing pray’r ? Did I each night, each day's offence repent, And each unholy thought and word lament? Still have these ready hands th' afflicted fed, And minister'd to Want her daily bread ? The cause I knew not, did I well explore ? Friend, advocate, and parent of the poor? Did I, to gratify some sudden gust Of thoughtless appetite, some impious lust Of pleasure or of pow'r, such sums employ

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