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HYMN.
Oh! thou Creator, Father, Friend,
Source of all blessings mortals prize,
Let nature's praise to thee ascend,
In swelling chorus to the skies.
Most high, ineffable, supreme,
Celestial, awful, brightest bright;
The cherubim's inspiring theme,
Enrob'd in glory, crown'd with light!
When solemn thunders distant roll,
And when the vivid lightnings dart,
They strike upon th' astonish'd soul,
And speak thy pow'r to ev'ry heart.
TO A BEAUTIFUL VINE AND A ROSE-BUSH.
Thou fair expanding mossy-rose,
Long may thy opening foliage twine
With this luxuriant cluster'd vine;
Which round thee wreathes its tender boughs.
