COMPOSED ON HORSEBACK BY A YOUNG LADY.
How wonderous are thy works, O God most high,
Maker of all above, and all beneath the sky:
In this fair scene, where-e'er I turn my view,
Beauties on beauties rise for ever new:
Yon lofty hill, crown'd with those stately trees,
That sinking valley that receives the breeze,
Yon velvet downs where sheep unnumber'd feed,
Those fields which wave with corn, that greensward mead,
Proclaim aloud the wise Creator's hand,
For chance could ne'er produce a work so grand:
All these in concert hymn their Maker's praise,
While with delight and wonder mortals gaze.