To the Reverend J N

Here, late, where Ruin's standard was unfurl'd, And bloody war laid waste our western world, The mildest beams of Peace benign are shed, And Piety exalts her conquering head; Age finds her flow'ry path, and heedless youth Submissive kneels the advocate of truth! With spirits chang'd we think of feuds no more, But greet our seniors on a distant shore; Tho' barren wilds and mountains intervene, And the Atlantic rolls her floods between. Will then fair Olney's aged bard excuse The weak exertions of a youthful muse? The genuine wishes of whose heart sincere, All glowing breathe to heaven for him a pray'r. Long may'st thou to thy land a blessing be, And many fruits of thy kind labours see; May Patience soothe thee in thy worldly cares, And a bright faith light thy declining years; 'Till late our GOD shall call the Wanderer home, And bid the longing, hoping exile, "come." Then may thy soul, upborne on angel's wing, Fleet to the realms of everlasting love; With raptur'd myriads Mercy's source to sing, And all the fullness of Emanuel prove.