Growing in Grace, &c. 2 Pet. iii. 18

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.