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XXXVI.

THE SEA.

A Song for The Anniversary Meeting of The Directors and Governors of the Sea-bathing Infirmary at Margate.

TUNE: The Anacreontic.

1

THE Sca, as its waves after waves loudly roll, And its tides or recede from or gain on the shore,

With awe and devotion exalts the full soul, And the Maker's loud praises extols in its

roar.

This made the "sweet Psalmist" enraptur'd exclaim,

O these are thy works, great and manifold,

Lord!

Earth and ocean alike boundless wisdom proclaim,―

Be thy wisdom and goodness by all breath ador'd.*

* Psalm civ. 24-26.

2

The sea doth in commerce realms far distant

join,

Uniting as friends whom it seems to divide, In fellowship brings both the poles and the line, As swift o'er its billows rich merchantmen ride. Within its own bosom vast treasures it bears, Each creature that creeps or disports on the fin,

In herring-shoals myriads each season it rears, And the whale "who delights to take pastime therein."

3

These are but in part what the Parent of Good Hath show'r'd down of mercies benignantly

free,

A constant BETHESDA still flows the salt flood, And health, strength and spirits we gain from

the sea.

Here, bathing, the bow'd may soon, brac'd, walk upright,

The blood, now contaminate', wash and be

clean,

The dim may recover the blessing of sight, And the unnery'd by palsy in vigour be

seen.

4

But, alas! how shall those who droop thus far in land,

Whom poverty more than their sickness bows down?—

Poor wretches! no means can their stations

command,

They languish unpitied, they sorrow unknown.

Taught by Him, who made sea, and all men of one race,

A BETHESDA, a house of reception, we

raise;

Humanity's friends! the blest object em

brace,

Bestow here your wealth to your Maker's high praise.

5

O ye, who for health here approach the

wide sea,

And ye, to these shores who for pleasure

repair,

Wide open your hands with hearts grateful

and free,

Give the lame and afflicted your blessings to share.

Then, if on the bed of affliction you lie,

He, who comfort in sickness alone can bestow,

Will grant you his aid when for mercy you

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DREARY Winter o'er the plain
Spreads once more his mantle dun;

Frosty mists and drizzling rain

Chill the air and mask the sun.

2

Music leaves the drooping grove—
Pleasure quits the blasted green-

Arbours, late the haunts of love,
All deserted now are seen!

Psalm xli. 1-3.

3

Cheerful round the social hearth,

Where the well-trimm'd embers glow, Passing time with tales of mirth, Sit the Cot's promiscuous row.

4

Deep and dirty is the road,

Difficult to man and steed :

Round the opulent abode

Crowd the shivering Sons of Need.

5

Deal your alms now to the poor,
Ye with wealth and plenty blest!
Thus a treasure you'll secure
In the realms of joy and rest.

6

But if you the poor shall spurn
In a season such as this,

Can ye hope, beyond life's bourn

Mercy's promis'd meed of bliss ?

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