Upon the Same: To my Infant Niece; her little Sister dying the Instant she was born
Mary Masters

How wonderful art Thou, O Lord, most high!
Who dares thy active Providence deny?
Whate’er occurs beneath the rising Sun,
By thy Permission or Command is done.
My Soul adores, and magnifies thy Pow’r,
For precious Mercies, I receive each Hour.
Blessings on me, or on my Friends bestow’d,
Excite perpetual Praises to my God.
Who could the cruel Pangs of Child-birth bear,
If not supported by thy tender Care?
Those wond’rous Agonies of Nature shew,
An Act of Justice and of Goodness too:
Thy Justice, which the Suff’ring did ordain,
Thy Goodness, that relieves the mighty Pain.

     My Sister, lately from these Torments freed,
(For so thou hadst indulgently decreed)
Forgets, how great, how vast her Sorrows were,
And in a Mother’s Fondness sinks her Care.
By thy preserving Pow’r the Infant lives,
And Pleasure to its joyful Parents gives:
Its little Sister dies, by thy Command,
An equal Blessing from thy bounteous Hand.
From This recall’d, to That thou givest Breath;
Then blessed be the Lord of Life and Death.

From Mary Masters, Poems on Several Occasions (London, 1733), 138-39.

Source: Eighteenth Century Collections Online