A Song for The Anniversary Meeling of The Directors and Governors of the Sea-bathing

Infirmary at Margate.

Tune: The Anacreontic.


THE Sca, as its wayes after waves loudly roll, And its tides or recede from or gain on the

shore, With awe and devotion exalts the full soul,

And the Maker's loud praises extols in its


This made the " sweet Psalmist” enraptur'd

exclaim, O these are thy works, great and manifold,

Lord ! Earth and ocean alike boundless wisdom pro

claim,Be thy wisdom and goodness by all breath



* Psalm civ. 24-26.


The sea doth in commerce realms far distant

join, Uniting as friends whom it seems to divide, In fellowship brings both the poles and the line, As swift o'er its billows rich merchantmen ride.

Within its own bosom vast treasures it bears, Each creature that creeps or disports on the

fing In herring-shoals myriads each season it rears, And the whale " who delights to take pastime



These are but in part what the Parent of Good Hath show'r'd down of mercies benignantly

free, A constant BETHESDA still flows the salt flood,

And health, strength and spirits we gain from

the sea.

Here, bathing, the bow'd may soon, brac’d,

walk upright, The blood, now contaminate', wash and be

clean, The dim may recover the blessing of sight,

And the unnery'd by palsy in vigour be



But, alas ! how shall those who droop thus far

in land, Whom poverty more than their sickness

bows down? Poor wretches! no means can their stations

command, They languish unpitied, they sorrow un


Taught by Him, who made sea, and all men

of one race, A BETHESDA, a house of reception, we

raise; Humanity's friends! the blest object em

brace, Bestow here your wealth to your Maker's

high praise.


Oye, who for health here approach the

wide sea,

And ye, to these shores who for pleasure

repair, Wide open your hands with hearts grateful

and free, Give the lame and afflicted your blessings

to share.

Then, if on the bed of affliction you lie,
He, who comfort in sickness alone can

bestow, Will grant you his aid when for mercy you

cry, And shed healing dews on your sickness and woe. *

J. P.




DREARY Winter o'er the plain

Spreads once more his mantle dun;
Frosty mists and drizzling rain

Chill the air and mask the sun.

Music leaves the drooping grove-

Pleasure quits the blasted green
Arbours, late the haunts of love,

All deserted now are seen!

* Psal. xli. 1-3.

3 Cheerful round the social hearth,

Where the well-trimm'd embers glow, Passing time with tales of mirth, Sit the Cot's promiscuous row.

4 Deep and dirty is the road,

Difficult to man and steed :
Round the opulent abode
Crowd the shivering Sons of Need.


alms now to the poor, Ye with wealth and plenty blest ! Thus a treasure you'll secure

In the realms of joy and rest.


But if you the poor shall spurn

In a season such as this,
Can ye hope, beyond life's bourn

Mercy's promis'd meed of bliss ?

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