Si gratiæ nondum ostium præcluditur,
Perpende, numen, quo dolore distrahor;
Et, quæ dolori pondus addant, respice
Quæ passus est pro me redemptor vulnera.

Ille, ille spes est solus et fiducia,
Nec ulla desperabitur remissio,
Quam filius dedit tuus salutifer,

Et proprio obsignavit emptam sanguine.

ODE

EX INITIO

PSALMI XIX. DESUMPTA.

EXPANSA cælorum, profunda cærula,
Et arcuati qua patet spatium ætheris,
Convexa stellis plena, splendens fabrica,
Sui decoris indicant originem.

Lætus diurnum sol iter decurrere,

Quis ille fons declarat et lucis parens,
Et cuique terræ, quam revisit, nunciat
Quam sancta se potensque formârit manus.

Then see the sorrows of my heart,
Ere yet it be too late,

And hear my Saviour's dying groans,

To give those sorrows weight.

For never shall

my

soul despair

Her pardon to procure;

Who knows thy only Son has dy'd,
To make that pardon sure.

AN ODE

TAKEN FROM

THE BEGINNING OF PSALM XIX.

THE spacious firmament on high,

With all the blue ethereal sky,

The spangled heavens, a shining frame,

Their great original proclaim.

The unwearied sun, from day to day,

Does his Creator's power display;

And publishes to every land

The work of an almighty hand.

Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale,
And nightly, to the listening earth,

Repeats the story of her birth :

Whilst all the stars, that round her burn, And all the planets, in their turn,

Confirm the tidings, as they roll,

And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though, in solemn silence, all
Move round this dark, terrestrial ball?
What though nor real voice nor sound
Amidst their radiant orbs be found?
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing as they shine,

"THE HAND THAT MADE US IS DIVINE."

Absente sole, cum statim vesper suas
Reducit umbras, luna carmen excipit,
Et singulis, ut eunt renarrat noctibus,
Sui quis ille magnus auctor luminis.
Quod et planetæ per vices, quod ignium
Pro se minorum totus affirmat chorus,
Et dum movetur quisque certis legibus,
Utrumque veritate pervadit polum.

Solenniore quamlibet silentio

Circum hunc opacum orbem feruntur omnia,
Nec ulla clare vox ab extra, nec sonus
Tot lucidos auditur inter ordines;
Auditur intus, quam canoris vocibus,
Quibusque cælum ferveat concentibus,
Ut hunc in hymnum concinat frequentia,
"DIVINUS EST, QUI NOS CREAVIT, ARTIFEX."

ON THE ASCENSION.

YE numerous hosts of angels bright,
Your winged multitudes prepare,
In all your grandeur to attend
The king of glory through the air.

O make your sweetest harmony,
As he triumphant takes his flight;
Towering on high above the sun,

Through realms immense of spacious light.

In choicest hymns, melodious throng,
Salute the conqueror, your king;

In joyful lays and loudest strains,
Ye blest, your God returning sing.

And now, in majesty divine,

He sits enrob'd by's Father's side ; But still vouchsafes to intercede

For sinful man, for whom he died.

Then, man, thy dear Redeemer bless,
With thankful heart, as they above;

With them begin a song of praise,
A song as endless as his love.