11.

If he should mark my words and thoughts with ftrict inquiring eyes,

Could I for one of thoufand faults the leaft excufe devife?

III.

Strong is his arm, his heart is wife;
who dares with him contend?
Or who that tries th' unequal ftrife
fhall profper in the end?

IV.

He makes the mountains feel his wrath, and their old feats forfake; The trembling earth deferts her place, and all her pillars shake.

V.

He bids the fun forbear to rife; th' obedient fun forbears:

His hand with fackcloth fpreads the skies, and feals up all the stars.

VI.

He walks upon the raging fea;

flies on the ftormy wind;

None can explore his wond'rous way,' or his dark footsteps find.

VIII.

JOB, XIV. 1-15.

1.

EW are thy days, and full of woe,
O man, of woman born!

FEW

Thy doom is written, " Duft thou art, "and fhalt to duft return."

II.

Behold the emblem of thy ftate in flow'rs that bloom and die; Or in the fhadow's fleeting form, that mocks the gazer's eye.

III.

Guilty and frail, how fhalt thou stand before thy Sov'reign Lord? Can troubled and polluted springs a hallow'd stream afford?

IV.

Determin❜d are the days that fly fucceffive o'er thy head ;

The number'd hour is on the wing that lays thee with the dead.

V.

Great God! afflict not in thy wrath the fhort-allotted fpan,

That bounds the few and weary days of pilgrimage to man.

VI.

All nature dies, and lives again the flower that paints the field, The trees that crown the mountain's brow, and boughs and bloffoms yield,

vii.

Refign the honours of their form at winter's ftormy blaft,

And leave the naked leaflefs plain a defolated waste.

VIII.

Yet foon reviving plants and flow'rs anew fhall deck the plain; The woods fhall hear the voice of Spring, and flourish green again.

IX.

But man forfakes this earthly fcene,

ah! never to return : Shall any following spring revive the ashes of the urn?

X.

The mighty flood that rolls along
its torrents to the main,
Can ne'er recall its waters loft
from that abyfs again.

XI.

So days, and years, and ages paft,
defcending down to night,
Can henceforth never more return
back to the gates of light.

XII.

And man, when laid in lonesome grave, shall sleep in Death's dark gloom, Until th' eternal morning wake the flumbers of the tomb.

XIII.

O may the grave become to me
the bed of peaceful reft,
Whence I fhall gladly rife at length,
and mingle with the bleft!

XIV.

Chear'd by this hope, with patient mind
I'll wait Heav'n's high decree,
Till the appointed period come
when death fhall fet me free.

IX.

JOB, xxvi. 6. to the end.

I.

WHO can refift th' Almighty arm that made the starry sky?

WHO

Or who elude the certain glance of God's all-feeing eye?

II.

From him no cov'ring veils our crimes; hell opens to his fight; And all deftruction's fecret fnares lie full difclos'd in light.

III.

Firm on the boundless void of space
he poiz'd the fteady pole;
And in the circle of his clouds
bade fecret waters roll.

IV.

While Nature's univerfal frame its Maker's power reveals,

His throne, remote from mortal eyes, an awful cloud conceals.