Page:Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral.djvu/30

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AIL, happy aint, on thine immortal throne, Poet of glory, life, and blis unknown; We hear no more the muic of thy tongue, Thy wonted auditories ceae to throng. Thy ermons in unequall'd accents flow'd, And ev'ry boom with devotion glow'd; Thou didt in trains of eloquence refin'd Inflame the heart, and captivate the mind. Unhappy we the etting un deplore, So glorious once, but ah! it hines no more.

Behold the prophet in his tow'ring flight! He leaves the earth for heav'n's unmeaur'd height, And worlds unknown receive him from our ight. There Whitefield wings with rapid coure his way, And ails to Zion through vat eas of day. Thy pray'rs, great aint, and thine inceant cries Have pierc'd the boom cf thy native kies. Thou