Guilty, but with heart-relenting,
Overwhelm'd with haplefs grief;
Proftrate at thy feet repenting,

Send, Oh fend me, quick relief.

Whither fhould a wretch be flying?
But to him who comfort gives;
Whither from the dread of dying?
But to him who ever lives.
While I view Thee, wounded, grieving,
Breathlefs on the curfed tree,
Fain I'd feel my heart believing,
That I hou fuffered'ft then for me.

With Thy righteoufnefs and spirit,
I am more than angels bleft;
Here with Thee all things inherit,
Peace, and joy, and endless reft.

Without Thee, the world poffeffing,
I should be a wretch undone:
Search through heav'n, the land of bleffing,
Seeking good, and finding none.

Hear then, bleffed SAVIOR, hear me :
My foul cleaveth to the duft;
Send the comforter to cheer me,
Lo! in Thee I put my truft.
On the word, Thy blood hath fealed,
Hangs my everlasting all;
Let thine arm be now revealed,
Stay, O ftay me, left I fall!

In the world of endless ruin,
Let it never, LORD, be faid,

"Here's a foul that perifh'd, fuing
"For the boafted SAVIOR's aid!

Sav'd! the deed shall spread new glory,
Through the fhining realms above,
Angels fing the pleafing story,
All enraptur'd with Thy love.

The following hymn was compofed by the editor, on the evening prior to the interment of his wife, and was fung at her funeral, Dec. 16, 1789. She was daughter of Hugh Jofiah Hanfard, Efq. one of his Majefty's Justices of the Peace, for the county of Middlefex: was married but ten months, and died in the 23d. year of her age; her remains, with that of her infant, were depofited in a new vault in Salem Chapel. Her amiable difpofitions and the fweetnefs of her manners, left a lasting fenfe of real excellence on the minds of her acquaintance, whofe unanimous opinion would deem

any

any formal panegyris too trifling an expression of their exalted fentiments on a character fo juftly beloved. To gratify a few friends, thefe three verfes appear in the prefent collection, as a fmall tribute to her memory.

V. Funeral. P. M.

AR above death's dreary empire!

F Far beyond the reach of woe,

In fair Salem," Wall'd with fapphire,"
Drefs'd more white than virgin-fnow!
Does the glad triumphant fpirit,

Which this houfe of clay refign'd,
Now with GOD "all things inherit,"
Evermore a happy mind.

Saints and feraphs, without number,
Are her bleft companions there!
Who ne'er faint, or fleep, or flumber,
In that pure immortal sphere.

But in fonnets, without ceafing,
All harmonious round the throne,
They afcribe, all praise and bleffing,
To the Three Eternal One.

CHRIST, the author of falvation,
Nobly founds on all their tongues,
Th' labors of divine compaffion,
Sweetly warble in their fongs.
Haften refurrection morning;
Hail thou reftitution day!
Then adieu to fin and mourning,
Welcome blifs without decay.

e. E

VI. Rev. vii. 13. L. M.'

XALTED high, at GoD's right hand,
Nearer the throne than cherubs ftand,

With glory crown'd in white array,
My wond'ring foul fays, Who are they?