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The Poems of Phillis Wheatley

If ere thine air dispens'd an healing pow'r,
Or snatch'd the victim from the fatal hour,
This equal case demands thine equal care,
And equal wonders may this patient share.
But unavailing, frantic is the dream
To hope thine aid without the aid of him
Who gave thee birth and taught thee where to flow,
And in thy waves his various blessings show.
  May R--- return to view his native shore
Replete with vigour not his own before,
Then shall we see with pleasure and surprise,
And own thy work, great Ruler of the skies!
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To the Rev. Dr. Thomas Amory, on Reading His Sermons on Daily Devotion, in Which That Duty is Recommended and Assisted
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To cultivate in ev'ry noble mind
Habitual grace, and sentiments refin'd,
Thus while you strive to mend the human heart,
Thus while heav'nly precepts you impart,
O may each bosom catch the sacred fire,
And youthful minds to Virtue's throne aspire!
  When God's eternal ways you set in sight
and Virtue shines in all her native light,
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The Poems of Phillis Wheatley

In vain would Vice her works in night conceal,
For Wisdom's eye pervades the sable veil.
  Artists may paint the sun's effulgent rays,
But Amory's pen the brighter God displays :
While his great works in Amory's pages shine,
And while he proves his essence all divine,
The Atheist sure no more can boast aloud
Of chance, or nature, and exclude the God ;
As if the clay without the potter's aid
Should rise in various forms, and shapes self-made,
Or world above with orb o'er orb profound
Self-mov'd could run the everlasting round.
It cannot be-unerring Wisdom guides
With eye propitious, and o'er-all presides.
  Still prosper, Amory! still may'st thou receive
The warmest blessings that a muse can give,
And when this transitory fate is o'er,
When kingdoms fall, and fleeting Fame's no more,
May Amory triumph in immortal fame.
A nobler title, and superior name!

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