But sure the rule's of no avail

If placed so high that all must fail;
And 'tis impossible to prove.

That any can his neighbour love.

THE ANSWERER.

IX.

Yes, such there are of heavenly mould,
Unwarp'd by pleasure, ease, or gold;
He who fulfils the nobler part
By loving GOD with all his heart;

He, only he, the Scriptures prove,
Can, as himself, his neighbour love.
X.

Then join, to make a perfect plan,
The love of GOD to love of MAN;
Your heart in union both must bring,
This is the stream, and that the spring;

This done, no more in vain you'll labour,
A Christian can't but love his neighbour.
XI.

If then the rule's too hard to please ye,
Turn Christian, and you'll find it easy.
"Still 'tis impossible," you cry,

"In vain shall feeble nature try."

'Tis true; but know a CHRISTIAN is a creature

Who does things quite impossible to nature.

AND

JOYFUL ANTICIPATIONS:

ON BEING IMPORTUNED BY A FRIEND TO WRITE VERSES WHEN I WAS VERY ILL.

I WRITE in verse? how hard to ask!

Expect to ask in vain,

A hand unequal to the task,

A head oppress'd with pain.

I lov'd, indeed, the Muse when young,
And faintly touch'd the lyre;
But long that lyre has lain unstrung,
Extinct the youthful fire.

Yet dwell I oft on scenes long past,
Scenes the fond heart retains ;
There tender recollections last
Of mingled joys and pains.

For Mem'ry still delights to trace
Friends lov'd so long, so dear;
Blest with each talent, virtue, grace,
Such friends may claim a tear.

The rigid Moralist was ours,
Johnson of mighty mind;
Vigorous in intellectual powers,

At once both rough and kind. *

* When the author asked Dr. Johnson why he put his hands behind him when the celebrated French infidel Abbé Raynal held out his hand to him, his answer was, "No, child; I will not shake hands with an Atheist to please you or any body else."

Of Kennicott, the Hebrew sage,
Porteus and Horne we boast;
And Burke, the glory of his age,
His single self a host.

Reynolds! consummate was thy skill;
Well pleased thy power I trace,
Each portion of thy art to fill,

Resemblance, colouring, grace.

Facility, invention pure,

In all thy works abound;
While suavity and classic lore
Thy social table crown'd.

Chaste Beattie! who can ever lose
The memory of thy tender strains,
The charms of thy enchanting Muse,
While feeling lasts, while taste remains.

Bryant, sagacious and profound,
On History shed new lights,

Proved the dire plagues on Egypt's ground
Congruous with all her impious rites.*

Though wit, though worth, no plea could find

Their forfeit lives to save,

Yet still their talents bless mankind,

Their works survive the

grave.

This eminent Biblical scholar showed that the judgments inflicted on the Egyptians were in exact correspondence with the contemptible objects of their idolatrous worship.

Then turn we from the painful past, —
The future fills the sight;

What glorious scenes, what prospects vast,
What visions of delight! *

Prophets and kings have wish'd to see
The scenes which crowding rise,
And faith and hope are almost lost
In actual ecstasies.

If angels in their sphere rejoice,
One rescued soul to greet;

How will they raise th' enraptured voice
Whole Continents to meet!

Yes, we behold the Eastern star

With growing splendour rise ; And rays celestial beaming far, To cheer e'en Polar skies.

From Java to the farthest West

Th' ETERNAL WORD shall reach;
And Truth Divine its power attest
In every clime and speech.

Shade of Buchanan! rest in peace,
Thy holy toils are o'er ;

But their blest fruits, with quick increase,
Shall spread from shore to shore.

* Allusion is made in this and the following stanzas to the Bible, Missionary, and other Societies, for the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom over the whole habitable globe, which are the glory of the present day.

In heaven thy Syrians thou shalt meet,
From earth's remotest sea;

And lay thy trophies at His feet,
Who died for them and thee!

Siberia spreads her frozen arms,
Released from sin and chains :
And Sharon's rose exhales its charms
On Afric's sultry plains.

Fell Juggernaut ere long shall weep
His altars overthrown;

Like Chemosh, Baal, and Moloch, sleep
Forgotten and unknown.

His orgies foul shall vanish all,

His impious rites be o'er;

See him with prostrate Dagon fall,

He falls to rise no more!

The ONE GREAT SACRIFICE once paid,
No offering Heaven demands
But prayer, by contrite spirits made,
Pure hearts, and holy hands.

Shed, Sun of Righteousness, thy rays
On each benighted nation;

So shall we call its BULWARKS PRAISE,
Its WALLS AND GATES SALVATION.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

LONDON:

Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoode,
New-Street-Square.