J'O:ad 07 ~Olf AD~. 191
lnpldt.
Tw nin our laboun are wbataoe•u they be,
Unleaa God givea the 13enedicite.
Mercy the wise Atbenio.oa held to be
Not an atTection 1 but a Deit.ie.
Wh11tever comes, let's be content witbaU ;
.Among God'a blea11inga, there ie no one emo.n.
Three fatal aiate1"8 wait upon eacb ain;
Fim, Fear and Shame without, then Guilt within.
That man must govern with o. gentle hAnd,
Who will have love comply with hie eommand.
This ia my comfort; when Fortuae'a mn« a• kind,
She can but spoil me of my mea.ne, not mind.
Conquer we ahaU, but we mu.t first coutend ;
'Tie not the fight that cruwm na, bnt the ead.
Man moat do -.reU out of a good iuteat,
Not for the servile fear of paniahmout.
Tu prayer the lips ne'er act tbe winning p11rt,
Without tbe sweet eoucurrenc:s a{ the heart.
idtrbtg is a JDIJZ ,bing.
0 Ltn, 0 De&~ 0 World, 0 Time,
0 Grave, where &11 thingtt d~w.
'Tis yours to make our lot sublime,
With your great weight of woe IlhatucL
Though aharpeet nnguish hearts may wtiug,
Though boeoma torn may be,
Yet autfel'ing is a holy thing;
Without it what were we 1
Tau en.