Where, then, shall Hope and Fear their objects find? 
  Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind? 
  Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate,
  Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate? 
  Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise? 
  No cries invoke the mercies of the skies? 
  Inquirer cease; petitions yet remain
  Which Heaven may hear, nor deem religion vain;
  Still raise for good the supplicating voice,
  But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice
  Safe in His power whose eyes discern afar
  The secret ambush of a specious prayer. 
  Implore His aid, in His decisions rest,
  Secure whate’er He gives—­He gives the best. 
  Yet when the scene of sacred presence fires,
  And strong devotion to the skies aspires,
  Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind,
  Obedient passions and a will resign’d;
  For Love, which scarce collective men can fill;
  For Patience, sovereign o’er transmuted ill;
  For Faith, that panting for a happier seat,
  Counts Death kind nature’s signal of retreat. 
  These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain,
  These goods He grants who grants the power to gain;
  With these Celestial Wisdom calms the mind,
  And makes the happiness she does not find.

THE END.