There is a time when toil must be preferr d Thus nature gives us let it check our pride See the sole bliss Heav n could on all bestow Whatever is is right This world tis true And which more blest who chain d his country say The first sure symptom of a mind in health True happiness resides in things unseen Oh the dark days of vanity while here Father of light and life Thou good supreme With knowledge conscious peace and virtue pure If I am right thy grace impart Still in the right to stay If I am wrong O teach my heart Save me alike from foolish pride At aught thy wisdom has denied O lost to virtue lost to manly thought Communion sweet communion large and high Benevolence. God loves from whole to parts but human soul Self love but serves the virtuous mind to wake Earth smiles around with boundless bounty blest Happiness. Know then this truth enough for man to know The only point where human bliss stands still And but more relish d as the more distress d The broadest mirth unfeeling folly wears Less pleasing far than virtue s very tears Never elated while one man s oppress d Gratitude. When all thy mercies O my God Oh how shall words with equal warmth That glows within my ravish d heart Thy providence my life sustain d To all my weak complaints and cries Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt Unnumber d comforts to my soul From whom those comforts flow d When in the slipp ry paths of youth Thine arm unseen convey d me safe Through hidden dangers toils and death And through the pleasing snares of vice When worn with sickness oft hast thou Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss Ten thousand thousand precious gifts Through every period of my life When nature fails and day and night Through all eternity to thee For O eternity s too short The Voyage of life. Self flatter d unexperienc d high in hope And fondly dream each wind and star our friend All in some darling enterprise embark d Ruins sure perquisite her lawful prize Some steer aright but the black blast blows hard Though strong their oar still stronger is their fate O er them and o er their names the billows close With swelling sails make good the promis d port |