Happy the man, whom grace divine has taught
To raise to nobler scenes the flying thought;
Beyond the bounds of sense and time to soar,
And awful immortality explore.
Amid the chill of death's tremendous gloom,
And all the dreary horrors of the tomb,
He walks serene — 'tis heaven with sacred ray,
Darts through the sable shade a glimpse of day;
Faith views the dawning bliss with raptur'd eye,
And bears his thoughts and hopes above the sky.

Yet, o'er the ruins of mankind he weeps,
O'er mortal hope which here in silence sleeps;
But from the pitying tear, the pious woe,
Celestial truths with soft persuasion flow.
He from these silent teachers, bids us learn
Our certain fate, our infinite concern.
To realms of life he points the radiant way,
Where death resigns his universal sway;
And this frail, dying frame, renew'd, shall shine,
Safe from decay in splendors all divine.

Thus Hervey mourns; his kind instructive page,
Full of compassion for a thoughtless age,
In all the charms of eloquence appears,
And wakes our pleasure, while it steals our tears.

Now rising from the dark retreats of death,
Soft as the morning Zephyr's gentle breath,
His language flows, and cheers our sainting powers,
With all the sweetness of the opening flowers,
Displays the beauties of the blooming race:
Their various beauties, though with matchless grace,
They scorn the pencil's art; yet flourish here,
In bright description all their charms appear;
Charms, which the heedless, unobserving eye,
Or slightly views, or wholly passes by:
But to the heaven-taught mind, how bright they shine,
Mark'd with the traces of the hand divine!
Their sweets collected with engaging art,
At once regale the sense, and cheer the heart

While all our powers obey the soft controll
To beauty's source he leads the enraptur'd soul
To Jesus leads, the everlasting Fair!
In the dear name ten thousand charms appear.
Beneath the heavenly radiance of his eye.
Created beauties droop, and fade, and die.

Thou Sun of righteousness, thy beams impart,
And bless my eyes, and warm my languid heart;
O let me dwell beneath thy light divine,
And nature's charms contented I resign.

But oh! what mortal eye can bear the ray,
When thy full glories beam etherial day?
The brightest seraphs, veil'd before thy throne,
Adoring low, the dazling splendors own
Too strong for finite natures to sustain,
Thy praise too losty for their noblest strain.

Come, gentle evening, cheer my fainting sense,
Pain'd and oppress'd with glories too intense.
The evening comes — all mild, and sweet, and fair;
The dusk how grateful! how serene the air? —
Yet still my soul would see her Saviour God,
The living source of all that's fair and good:
His beauties, though at humble distance, view
And trace him in the scenes his pencil drew.
His bright perfections round me are display'd,
The morn, the noon, the grateful evening shade,
Present his different glories to the sight,
Or strike with wonder, or inspire delight.
His power and love, in plenty's smiling form,
O'er the wide fields each grateful bosom warm.
From him, the gentle evening-breezes spring,
And wast refreshment on their balmy wing.
His beauty glitters in the pearly dew,
And smiles amid the bright etherial blue
Which paints yon spacious arch; and charms our eyes
In clouds of gold, which streak the western skies.
And now the shining lamps of heaven advance,
Rang'd in bright order o'er the fair expanse!
Like lamps they sparkle on the unaided fight;
But nearer view'd in philosophic light,
Prodigious orbs, unnumber'd worlds arise!
New scenes of wonder meet our gazing eyes!

Jesus, thy glory, beaming from afar,
Great source of light, illumines every star.
Thy word inform'd the planets where to roll,
And station'd every orb that gilds the pole.
To thee, 'midst all the glories of the skies,
To thee alone I raise my longing eyes:
— Bright morning star, arise with healing ray,
— Arise and chase the shades of night away,
— Sweet harbinger of everlasting day.