A Glance from GOD bringing us down to the Solitude of the Grave. Job vii. 8

Sov'reign of Life, before thine Eye, Lo! mortal Men by thousands dye! One Glance from thee at once brings down The proudest Brow, that wears a Crown.

Banish'd at once from human Sight To the dark Grave's unchanging Night, Imprison'd in that dusty Bed, We hide our solitary Head.

The friendly Band no more shall greet, Accents familiar once, and sweet: No more the well-known Features trace, No more renew the fond Embrace.

Yet if my Father's faithful Hand Conduct me thro' this gloomy Land, My Soul with Pleasure shall obey, And follow, where he leads the Way.

He nobler Friends, than here I leave, In brighter surer Worlds can give; Or by the Beamings of his Eye A lost Creation well supply.