Alas! my fond enquiring soul, Doom'd in suspence to mourn; Now let thy moments calmly roll, Now let thy peace return.

Why should'st thou let a doubt disturb

Thy hopes, which daily rise, And urge thee on to trust his word Who built and rules the skies?

Hope arising from retrospection

Look back thro' what intricate ways

He led thy unfriended feet; Oft mourning in the cheerless maze, He ne'er forsook thee yet.

Hope arising from retrospection

When thunder from heav'n's arch did break, And cleft the sinking ship, His mercy snatch'd thee from the wreck, And from the rolling deep:

Hope arising from retrospection

And when Disease, with threat'ning mein, Aim'd at thy trembling heart, Again his mercy interven'd, And turn'd aside the dart.

When Murder sent her hopeless cries

More dreadful thro' the gloom, And kindling flames did round thee rise, Deep harvests to consume;

Who was it led thee thro' the wood

And o'er th' ensanguin'd plain, Unseen by ambush'd sons of blood, Who track'd thy steps in vain?

'Twas pitying heav'n that check'd my tears, And bade my infants play, To give an opiate to my fears, And cheer the lonely way.

And in the doubly dreadful night

When my Abella died, When horror struck---detesting light! I sunk down by her side:

When wing'd for flight my spirit stood, With this fond thought beguil'd, To lead my charmer to her God, And there to claim my child;

Again his mercy o'er my breast

Effus'd the breath of peace; Subsiding passions sunk to rest, He bade the tempest cease.

Oh! let me ever, ever praise

Such undeserved care; Tho' languid may appear my lays, At least they are sincere.

I never will distrust thee more, Tho' hell should aim her dart; Innoxious is infernal pow'r, If thou Protector art.

It is my joy that thou art God, Eternal, and supreme--- Rise Nature! hail the power aloud, From whom creation came.

American poetry

Early modern poetry

18th century works