And swift to do his will, in squadrons bright,
From heav'n to earth his mighty angels fly,
Outstripping in their course the speed of light.
19. CHRIST'S TABLE.
The monarch's table, grac'd with golden plate,
With viands loaded, brought from ev'ry clime,
Garnish'd with beauty, cheer'd with minstrel's chime,
Is poor, compar'd with that, at which I sate.
The humble feast outvied all royal state;—