CCCXLIV. Growing in Grace, &c.

PRAISE to thy Name, Eternal GOD,
For all the Grace Thou shed'st abroad;
For all thine Influence from above
To warm our Souls with sacred Love.

Blest be thy Hand, which from the Skies
Brought down this Plant of Paradise,
And gave its heav'nly Glories Birth,
To deck this Wilderness of Earth.

But why does that celestial Flow'r
Open, and thrive, and shine no more?
Where are its balmy Odours fled?
And why reclines its beauteous Head?

Too plain alas! the Languor shews
Th' unkindly Soil in which it grows;
Where the black Frosts and beating Storm
Wither and rend its tender Form.

Unchanging Sun, thy Beams display
To drive the Frosts and Storms away;
Make all thy potent Virtues known
To chear a Plant, so much thine own.

And thou, blest Spirit, deign to blow
Fresh Gales of Heav'n on Shrubs below;
So shall they grow, and breathe abroad
A Fragrance grateful to our GOD.