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5. There is an unseen hand, which guides the affairs of nations. Throughout all their changes and revolutions, through the seemingly dark and troubled chaos of human concerns, an almighty Providence overrules; and all events past, present, and to come, are employed in directing and completing the destinies of all creatures, in subserviency to that infinitely great and glorious kingdom, which shall never

be removed.


ONCE in the flight of ages past,

There liv'd a man; and who was he?
Mortal! howe'er thy lot be cast,
That man resembled thee.

Unknown the region of his birth;

The land in which he died unknown;
His name hath perish'd from the earthy
This truth survives alone-

That joy and grief, and hope and fear,
Alternate triumph'd in his breast;
His bliss and woe-a smile, a tear;
Oblivion hides the rest.

The bounding pulse, the languid limb,
The changing spirits rise and fall;
We know that these were felt by him,
For these are felt by all.

He suffer'd-but his pangs are o'er;
Enjoy'd but his delights are fled;
Had friends his friends are now no more;
And foes-his foes are dead.

He lov'd-but whom he lov'd, the grave
Hath lost in its unconscious womb;
she was fair—but nought could save
Her beauty from the tomb.

The rolling seasons, day and night,
Sun, moon, and stars, the earth and main,
Erewhile his portion; life and light,
To him exist in vain.

He saw whatever thou hast seen,

Encounter'd all that troubles thee;
He was whatever thou hast been;
He is what thou shalt be.

The clouds and sun-beams, o'er his eye,
That once their shades and glory threw,
Have left in yonder silent sky,
No vestige where they flew,

The annals of the human race,
Their ruins, since the world began,
Of HIM afford no other trace

Than this THERE LIV'D A MAN!


O THOU unutterable Potentate!

Through nature's vast extent sublimely great!
Thy lovely form the flower-decked field discloses,
Thy smiles are seen in Nature's sunny face:
Milk-colored lilies and wild-blushing roses.
Are bright with thee:--thy voice of gentleness
Speaks in the light-winged, whispering zephyrs, playing
Midst the young boughs, or o'er the meadows straying:
Thy breath gives life to all, below, above;

And all things revel in thy light and love.
But here, on these gigantic mountains, here
Thy greatness, glory, wisdom, strength, and spirit
In terrible sublimity appear!

Thy awe-imposing voice is heard,-we hear it!
The Almighty's fearful voice; attend! it breaks
The silence, and in solemn warning speaks:
His the light tones that whisper midst the trees ;
His, his the whistling of the busy breeze;
His, the storm-thunder roaring, rattling round,

What eye

When element with element makes war
Amidst the echoing mountains; on whose bound,
Whose highest bound, he drives his fiery car,
Glowing like molten iron; or, enshrined
In robes of darkness, rides, upon the wind
Across the clouded vault of heaven.
Has not been dazzled by thy majesty?
Where is the ear that has not heard thee speak?
Thou breathest !-forest-oaks of centuries
Turn their uprooted trunks towards the skies.
Thou thunderest !-adamantine mountains, break,
Tremble, and totter, and apart are riven !
Thou lightenest! and the rocks inflame; thy power
Of fire, to their metallic bosom driven,
Melts and devours them lo! they are no more:-
They pass away, like wax in the fierce flame, t
Or the thick mists that frown upon the sun,
Which he but glances at and they are gone;
Or like the sparkling snow upon the hill,
When noon-tide darts its penetrating beam.
What do I say? At God's almighty will,
The affrighted world falls headlong from its sphere !
Planets and suns and systems disappear!
But thy eternal throne-thy palace bright,
Zion-stands steadfast in unchanging might;
Zion-thy own peculiar seat-thy home!
But here, O God! here is thy temple too:
Heaven's sapphire arch is its resplendent dome,
Its columns-trees that have for ages stood;
Its incense is the flower-perfumed dew;
Its symphony-the music of the wood;
Its ornaments the fairest gems of spring;
Its altar is the stony mountain proud.
Lord! from this shrine to thy abode I bring,
Trembling, devotion's tribute-though not loud,
Nor pomp-accompanied: thy praise I sing,
And thou wilt deign to hear the lowly offering.


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