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The Warden of the Cinque Ports.
HE spacious firmament on high,
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
And nightly, to the listening earth,
What though in solemn silence, all
Paraphrase on Psalm
HE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care ; His presence shall my wants supply, And gaard me with a watchful eye: My noon-day walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Though in the paths of death I tread,
Though in a bare and rugged way,
AROUND the fire, one wintry night,
The farmer's rosy children sat; The fagot lent its blazing light,
And jokes went round, and careless chat;
When, hark ! a gentle hand they hear
Low tapping at the bolted door, And thus, to gain their willing ear,
A feeble voice was heard implore :
“ Cold blows the blast across the moor,
The sleet drives hissing in the wind; Yon toilsome mountain lies before
A dreary, treeless waste behind.
“My eyes are weak and dim with age,
No road, no path can I descry; And these poor rags ill stand the rage
Of such a keen, inclement sky.