RESIG NA ITO N.

IN TWO PARTS,

"My foul fhall be fatisfied even as it were with mar66 row and fatnefs? when my mouth praiseth thee with "joyful lips."

PSALM lxiii. 6.

ADVERTISEMENT.

THIS was not intended for the Public, there were many and ftrong reasons against it; and are so still; but fome extracts of it, from the few copies which were given away, being got into the printed papers, it was thought neceffary to publish fomething, leaft a copy ftill more imperfect than this should fall into the press: and it is hoped, that this unwelcome occafion of publication may be fome excuse for it.

As for the following ftanzas, God Almighty's infinite power, and marvellous goodness to man, is dwelt on, as the most just and cogent reason for our chearful and abfolute refignation to his will; nor are any of those topics declined, which have a juft tendency to promote that fupreme virtue: fuch as the vanity of this life, the value of the next, the approach of death, &c.

RESIGNATION.

THE

PART I.

HE days how few, how fhort the years.
Of man's too rapid race,

Each leaving, as it swiftly flies,

A fhorter in its place!

They who the longest lease enjoy,

Have told us with a figh,

That to be born feems little more,

Than to begin to die.

Numbers there are who feel this truth
With fears alarm'd; and yet,
In life's delufions lull'd afleep,
This weighty truth forget:

And am not I to these akin?
Age flumbers o'er the quill;
Its honour blots, whate'er it writes ;
And am I writing still?

Confcious of nature in decline,
And languor in my thoughts;
To foften cenfure, and abate
Its rigour on my faults;

Permit me, Madam! ere to You
The promis'd verfe I pay,

To touch on felt infirmity,
Sad fifter of decay.

One world deceas'd, another born,

Like Noah they behold,

O'er whofe white hairs, and furrow'd brows,

Too many funs have roll'd:

Happy the patriarch! he rejoic'd

His fecond world to fee:

My fecond world, though gay the scene,

Can boast no charms for me.

To me this brilliant age appears
With defolation fpread;

Near all with whom I liv'd, and smil'd,
Whilft life was life, are dead;

And with them dy'd my joys; the grave
Has broken nature's laws;

And clos'd, against this feeble frame,
Its partial cruel jaws;

Cruel to fpare! condemn'd to life!
A cloud impairs my fight;
My weak hand disobeys my will,

And trembles as I write.

What fhall I write? Thalia, tell;
Say, long-abandon'd Mufe!
What field of fancy fhall I range?
What fubject fhall I chufe?

A choice of moment high inspire,
And rescue me from fhame,
For doating on thy charms fo late,
By grandeur in my theme.

Beyond

Beyond the themes, which most admire,
Which dazzle, or amaze,

Beyond renown'd exploits of war,

Bright charms, or empire's blaze,

Are themes, which, in a world of woe,
Can beft appease our pain;
And, in an age of gaudy guilt,
Gay folly's flood restrain;

Amidst the ftorms of life fupport
A calm unfhaken mind;
And with unfading laurels crown
The brow of the refign'd.

O Refignation! yet unfung,
Untouch'd by former ftrains;
Though claiming every Mufe's fmile,
And every Poet's pains,

Beneath life's evening, folemn fhade,
I dedicate my page

To thee, thou fafeft guard of youth!
Thou fole fupport of age!

All other duties crefcents are
Of virtue faintly bright,

The glorious confummation, Thou!
Which fills her orb with light:

How rarely fill'd! The love divine

In evils to difcern,

This the firft leffon which we want,

The latest, which we learn ;

A melan