Hymns and odes, composed on the death of Gen. George Washington: adapted to the 22d. day of February, and dedicated to those who please to sing them! : Religious and social assemblies cannot fail of being pleased with these various tributes of affection to the father and the friend of his country. They may select whatever suits them best, and mourn the man of the age in sublimest strains. These are the united offerings of piety, patriotism and genius, at the shrine of Washington. : Many of them are pure originals, never published before.

HYMNS ON THE DEATH OF Gen. WASHINGTON.

HYMN I. P. M.

Written by the Rev. John S. J. Gardner, Boston.

I.

AND is the illustrious Chieftain dead, Awhile to favor'd mortals lent, not given? And has his sainted spirit fled, And sought, in hallow'd hope, its native heaven? Yes, our sad fate we must deplore, COLUMBIA's Savior is no more.

II.

O! for a muse of fire, to sing The various virtues of his matchless mind, Which, borne on Time's immortal wing, Remotest ages shall unrivall'd find. Yes, our sad fate we must deplore, COLUMBIA's Savior is no more.

III.

When fell invasion shook our coast▪ And menac'd all to freeborn spirits dear, Columbia's consecrated host The Hero led, and broke th' oppressor's spear. But now our fate we must deplore, COLUMBIA's Savior is no more.

IV.

Still ardent in his Country's cause, The Federal Triumph with his voice he seal'd, And Chief, and Guardian of the Laws, Adorn'd the Council as he grac'd the Field; But now our fate we must deplore, COLUMBIA's Savior is no more.

V.

Clear intellect, of passion pure, Each act declar'd him wisdom's fav'rite child,

Columbia's safety to secure, The bold he vanquish'd, and the insidious foil'd: But now our fate we must deplore, COLUMBIA's Hero is no more.

VI.

But shall our selfish sorrows flow, Whilst he, in heaven, 'midst sainted souls is blest? Shall we with unavailing woe, Lament the Hero's everlasting rest? No, dry each tear, each grief remove, Great WASHINGTON is blest above.

SOLEMN DIRGE, Sung at New-York.

I.

SLOWLY strike the solemn bell, Nature sound thy deepest knell, Power of Music! touch the heart, Nature there will do her part. God of melancholy, come! Pensive o'er the Hero's Tomb. In saddest strains, his loss deplore, With piercing cries rend every shore, For WASHINGTON is now no more.

II.

GLORY, bring thy fairest wreath, Place it on thy Hero's urn; MERCY, in soft accents breathe, "He never made this bosom mourn." Ev'ry virtue here attend, Bending o'er his sacred earth; GRATITUDE thy influence lend, Make us feel thy mighty worth.

III.

Hold not back the sacred tear, Give to him the sigh sincere, Who living, liv'd for all, Sorrow take the solemn hour! Prostrate to thy melting power, Let humble mortals fall. Come sable Goddess take the soul Devoted to thy dark controul; Come take our hearts and press them deep, Angels may joy, but man must weep.

SOLEMN DIRGE. L. M.

By Mr. RICHARDS, of Portsmouth, N. H. Sung at St. John's Church.

I.

COLUMBIA, VIRTUE, FREEDOM, rise! And sweep the plaintive chords of woe; A NATION's tears; an EMPIRE's sighs, Mourn WASHINGTON, by death, laid low.

II.

The PATRIOT, HERO, SAGE combin'd; The Good, the Great, the Brave, the Just; The SIRE, and FRIEND of human KIND, Of Men the BEST, of Men the FIRST!

III.

'Tis WASHINGTON who bows the head! His Virtues tow'r above the grave; The Hero, Patriot, Sage, is dead! GEORGE WASHINGTON, the Good, the Brave.

IV.

A WASHINGTON can never die! The Good, the Great, the god-like Brave, In ev'ry tear, in ev'ry sigh Shall live, and triumph o'er the grave.

V.

The world's vast round is VIRTUE's urn; But all our Hearts shall be his grave; There Love's eternal lamp shall burn; And Life entomb the Good, the Brave.

VI.

COLUMBIA, VIRTUE, FREEDOM, FAME, Shall twine the LAUREL, CIVIC wreath; And ANGELS bear th' immortal NAME Above,—beyond the grasp of Death.

ODE,

Written by Mrs. ROWSON, of Medford.

RECITATIVE.

PEACE to his soul! the fatal hour is past, And silence o'er him has her mantle cast: His deeds, his virtues are enrol'd by Fame, Nor shall oblivion ever shroud his name, Then let Fraternal Love attune the lyre, And snatch a ray of Genius' sacred fire, Whilst the sad train, in soft and solemn lays, Dwells on his merit, and records his praise. Let the full chord to yon blue arch arise, Our WASHINGTON's translated to the skies.

AIR.

HOW happy he, who sinks to rest, By all regretted, lov'd and blest; For him th' afflicted melts in woe, For him the widow's tears shall flow, For him the orphan's prayers shall rise, And waft his spirit to the skies. To deck his grave, shall Virtue bring The earliest tribute of the spring: And Friendship, weeping, shall repair, To plant her mournful cypress there; Whilst in our hearts we'll raise a tomb, Round which immortal wreathes shall bloom.

ELEGANT TRIBUTE,

Composed by the Rev. Mr. Elliot, of Watertown.

ILLUSTRIOUS SHADE! accept these artless lays, The Muse this tribute to thy mem'ry pays. Thy loss, to no one private grief confin'd, Demands the general sorrow of mankind;— Thine was the first of fortune's gifts to claim, And thine the triumph of unbounded fame. Indulgent nature, emulously kind, Gave to thy form the graces of the mind. Millions unborn thy mem'ry shall revere, And wet thy marble with a pious tear: No more to thee by mortals can be given, Much honor'd shade—the rest is lost to Heaven.

MASONIC HYMN. C. M.

By Brother Geo. Richards, Portsmouth, N. H. Sung at St. John's Church.

I.

AT GOD's imperial high decree, Our MASTER sleeps in dust; His BRETHREN bend the prostrate knee; Thy WILL, O GOD! is just.

II.

That Will, Grand-Master, Most Sublime! Lent him to guide our way; When darkness wrapp'd Columbia's clime▪ And veil'd the light of day.

III.

That Will beyond the storm of war, Our Master's steps convey'd; Our Brother left his trophi'd car, And sought Mount Vernon's shade.

IV.

In War, in Peace; in War again, Columbia's voice he heard; A Master, Brother, cri'd Amen, And bow'd to ADAMS' word.

V.

His God-like course of glory run— Heav'n's Royal Arch sublime; 'Mid morn's bright star and Light's full Sun, Enthrone his soul divine.

VI.

Immortal Master, Brother, hail! Adieu, farewel, adieu; The Cassia sprig on Glory's vale, Is bath'd in Virtue's dew.

HYMN. L. M.

By Mr. Richards, Portsmouth, N. H.

I.

ETERNAL GOD, at whose decree, A MOSES, GIDEON, JEPHTHAH, rose; Ordain'd to set a NATION free, And save from twice ten thousand foes.

II.

Full cloath'd of HEAV'N, with pow'rs sublime, Behold, they ride on war's dark storm: And taught in wisdom's paths divine, 'Mid PEACE, they glow, in LIGHT's mild form.

III.

LORD of the living, glorious dead! COLUMBIA owns, 'twas thine to raise, GEORGE WASHINGTON, her FED'RAL head; In WAR, her STRENGTH; in PEACE, her PRAISE.

IV.

Thy GOODNESS, lent the HERO, SAGE, PROTECTOR, SHIELD, our steps to guide; Thy PROVIDENCE, from youth to age, Shone bright, at VIRTUE's, GLORY's side.

V.

His deeds in WAR, in PEACE, WELL DONE; At thy command, HE comes to THEE;— When HEAV'N recals a WASHINGTON, Ye nations, bow th' adoring knee.

VI.

Thy gift, O LORD, in WASHINGTON, Demands a NATION's, EMPIRE's praise; The GIFT was THINE; Thy WILL be done; Thou ANCIENT of ETERNAL DAYS.

HYMN. L. M. Sung at Hartford, Connecticut.

I.

WHAT solemn sounds the ear invade! What wraps the land in sorrow's shade! From Heaven the awful mandate flies— The FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY DIES.

II.

Let ev'ry heart be fill'd with woe, Let ev'ry eye with tears o'erflow, Each form, oppress'd with deepest gloom, Be clad in vestments of the tomb.

III.

Behold that venerable Band! The Rulers of our mourning land, With grief proclaim from shore to shore— "Our GUIDE, our WASHINGTON's no more."

IV.

Where shall our country turn its eye! What help remains beneath the Sky! Our Friend, Protector, Strength and Trust Lies low, and mouldering in the Dust.

V.

ALMIGHTY GOD, to Thee we fly— Before thy Throne above the sky, In deep prostration humbly bow, And pour the penitential vow.

VI.

Hear, O MOST HIGH! our earnest prayer— "Our Country take beneath thy care; "When dangers press, and foes draw near, "May future WASHINGTONS appear."

HYMN. L. M.

By Mr. Richards, Portsmouth, N. H.

I.

GREAT KING of KINGS! before thy throne, We bend on adoration's knee; Thou, thou, O LORD, art GOD alone; Nor dares th' Archangel question THEE.

II.

On earth, beneath; in heav'n, on high, 'Tis THINE, thy PLEASURE to perform; In floods of day to robe the sky; Or wrap a world in night's dark storm:

III.

At THY COMMAND, a nation springs To LIFE; to LIBERTY sublime:

At THY COMMAND, States, Empires, Kings, Are swept adown the gulph of time.

IV.

The GREAT, the GOOD, now wept in dust, Thy faithful servant, WASHINGTON; Was only ours, in gracious trust; Till VIRTUE's perfect race was run.

V.

Receiv'd from THEE; Return'd again;— Thy will, ALMIGHTY GOD, is done! May all our spirits breathe, AMEN; And yield to THEE, thy WASHINGTON.

VI.

Forgive, O LORD, COLUMBIA's tears! The cloud of death has veil'd her SUN; That veil shall rend in yon bright spheres; And GLORY, crown THY WASHINGTON.

ODE,

By Mrs. MURRAY, of Boston. Sung at the first Universal Church.

I.

ILLUSTRIOUS shade—forgive our tears! Replete with self—each sigh appears, Vast, though our sorrows flow: The mingling torrents, as they roll, No human efforts can controul, Nor stay the burst of woe.

II.

From thy Potomack borne along, The tidings reach the listening throng, And funeral glooms enshroud: From earth our WASHINGTON is fled! Humanity proclaims him dead! And Nature shrieks aloud!

III.

See where inhum'd the hero lies! The brave, the great, the good, the wise, In Vernon's vault enshrin'd! Pride of Columbia—boast of truth! Peerless from the first dawn of youth, His country's shield design'd.

IV.

Millions combin'd to lift his fame, The world confess'd his matchless name! Wafting his deeds around: And distant nations, when they hear, Will drop the tributary tear, Weeping the fatal wound.

V.

How desolate are Vernon's shades! The mount, the groves, the parks, the glades, Where oft the feast was spread: To realms of death—his wedded friend— Beholds her bosom's Lord descend! And mourns the Virtues dead!

VI.

But hark! religion strikes the lyre, The white-rob'd Seraph leads the choir, Of holy faith possess'd: To heaven her humid eye she rears. To heaven, where WASHINGTON appears, Enthron'd amid the blest.

VII.

Gladly his sainted spirit fled, Its new plum'd wings majestic spread, Wide o'er the splendid way, First in the bands of patriots found, Admiring Angels cluster round! And lead to endless day.

VIII.

There consummate his bliss remains, While that rich plaudit he obtains, Which worlds can never give: Then let us at his trophy'd shrine, Each murm'ring sigh to GOD resign, 'Till we with JESUS live.

HYMN, C. M.

By Mr. Richards, Portsmouth, N. H.

I.

ALL Gracious LORD, with pitying eye, Look down from mercy's throne; Regard a NATION's heart-felt sigh; And hear an EMPIRE's groan;

II.

Wipe thou, O GOD, those tears away, That weep a FATHER's dust; Thy Saints rejoice in worlds of day, But weep, on earth, we must.

III.

O wipe the WIDOW's streaming eye, She mourns a HUSBAND dead; Heaves soft affection's deep drawn sigh, And weeps, her GLORY, fled.

IV.

And hear, in HEAV'N, Oh hear, the prayer, That's breath'd for FREEDOM'S CHIEF; May ADAMS be thy guardian care, Soothe thou, his soul-felt grief:

V.

His STRENGTH, in age; his HOPE, in youth; His last, lov'd-BROTHER sleeps; His brother, friend; his friend in truth, Thy WASHINGTON, HE weeps.

VI.

Support, console; assuage his woes; Bless, bless, O bless HIM, LORD; And when he rests in calm repose, Be THOU, HIS GREAT REWARD!

ODE,

Set to Music by Mr. Holden, of Boston.

FROM Vernon's Mount behold the Hero rise! Resplendent forms attend him through the skies; The shades of war-worn veterans round him throng, And lead, enwrapt, their honor'd Chief along! A laurel wreath th' immortal WARREN bears, An arch triumphal MERCER's hand prepares: Young LAURENS, erst, th' avenging bolt of war, With port majestic guides the glittering car; MONTGOMERY's godlike form directs the way, And GREENE unfolds the gates of endless day: While Angels, "trumpet-tongued," proclaim thro' air, "Due honours for the FIRST OF MEN prepare."