« AnteriorContinuar »
LONGING FOR HOME.
A Thought at the Close of a Week. AND now another week is past,
And I one week am nearer come; Fly swift, ye hours; convey me fast
To my long wish'd for, dearest home. Far from my father's house, its true, Yet frequent tokens of his love, And kind memorials, not a few,
Oft I receive from him above.
Sometimes he deigns to visit me,
And with his grace my heart to cheer: But oh! I long unceasingly
To dwell at home, and see him there! His love has plac'd me in this school, Where ev'ry lesson of his grace, And all the discipline and rule,
Are to prepare me for that place.
And I am perfected in love;
unto my FATHER! that name is music to my ear! My heart reverb'rates at the cheering
Father and your Father.
Blessed Spirit! Heavenly Dove!
THE POOR BLIND.
A Morning Reflection,
Be glad, my soul; the gloomy night
But visits not the blind.
The morn may make the sun arise,
They pity claim; but more, much more,
Christians, who yourselves of late,
I greet ye, Missionary bands,
I pray, May God uphold the hands
And light to sinners blind.
Go on, ye highly favour'd still,
To the Editor.
The music of Handel, as in most of his compositions, was adapted not merely to the metre but to the sense of the old ver sion of Psalm civ. I have heard, that on occasion of a new version of the Psalms, a premium was once advertised for a new translation ofthat Psalm in theold metre, but that the object was not accomplished. In the following lines I have attempted a more literal, as well as a more modern transfusion of the original into the English language,-adhering to the metre to which Handel's admirable tune was adapted. The whole psalm being too copious for your Miscellany, I have been limited to the first thirteen verses; adding, at the close, what appeared requisite to accommodate the Ode of the Jewish prophet to the use of evangelical worshippers.
ADOKE, O my soul, Jehovah's great name! With majesty cloth'd, and matchless in faine :
The sun's dazzling lustre his robe he hath made;
The heav'ns are a curtain, his glories to shade.
The fathomless deep his mansion sustains; His chariot, the clouds, he guides or re
The wind's sounding pinions his footsteps proclaim;
His envoys are spirits, his ministers flame.
The loftiest mountains in waves were immers'd;
He spoke by his thunders, the waters dispers'd.
They mounted the hills, thy call to attend; Rebuk'd by thy voice, the vales they, descend;
Retire to their channels, and haste to the deep,
Its limits appointed for ever to keep. The earth thus renew'd, he waters from high;
Of beasts tame and wild, the thirst to supply:
The springs, at his mandate gush forth from the hills,
And wind through the valleys, uniting their rills.
The birds of the heav'ns, there find a re
And pour through the groves their melodies sweet:
For this God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our Guide even unto Death.-Psalm xlviii. 14.
COULD I say, "This God is mine,"
Cursed sin wert thou forgiv'n,
SUNDAY SCHOOL HYMN,
Father of Heav'n, to thee we raise
Printed by G. AuLD. Greville Street. London.
AN ACCOUNT OF
A MULATTO BAPTIST PREACHER,
[Drawn up by himself, and communicated to a Friend in Leicestershire.]
I HAVE been induced, by repeated solicitations, to make the following attempt to relate the particulars of my convictions, conversion, and experience, with the principles I hold and teach the people, and the manner of discipline and government in our church; as well as the success I have met with, in turning poor lost sinners from sin, to the knowledge and love of a precious Redeemer.
I consider it proper, before I proceed farther, to give an account of myself. I am from New York, in North America, where my occupation was a barber. I was married September 4, 1778, to Susannah Ashton, a mantua-maker, a native of New York, by the Rev. W. Walters, agreeably to the rites of the church of England; in which denomination we had been brought up, and had learnt to read the Scriptures, and to write a little. At the evacution of New York, in 1783, I was, with my wife and child, obliged to come to the island of Jamaica. I am now a man well-stricken in years, and very infirm.
As to religion, when I first came to Jamaica, mine was that of the world: I was much given to strong drink, and to many other bad habits.
After my arrival, I hired a small shop in Kingston, where I followed my trade for three years; during which time I saw it would not answer, as I became very poor, and could scarcely subsist. I removed thence to a place in the mountains, called Leguine, about fifteen miles from Kingston, there to till the ground. The providence of God so laid it out, that this land came into Mr. Winn's possession.
There I found a black man of the Chamba country, named