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Yet not to Earth's contracted span
Thy Goodness let me bound,
Or think Thee Lord alone of man,

When thousand worlds are round:

Let not this weak, unknowing hand
Prefume thy bolts to throw,
And deal damnation round the land,
On each I judge thy Foe.

If I am right, thy grace impart,
Still in the right to stay :

If I am wrong, oh teach my heart
To find that better way.

Save me alike from foolish Pride,
Or impious difcontent,
At aught thy Wifdom has deny'd
Or aught thy Goodness lent.

Teach me to feel another's Woe,
To hide the Fault 1 fee;

That mercy I to others show,
That mercy fhow to me.

Mean tho' I am, not wholly fo,
Since quicken'd by thy Breath;

O lead me wherefoe'er I go,

Thro' this day's Life or Death

This day, be bread and peace my lot :

All elfe beneath the fun,

Thou know'ft if best bestow'd or not, And let thy will be done.

To Thee, whofe temple is all space,
Whofe altar, earth, fea, skies!

One chorus let all being raise !
All nature's incense rise!

VOL. III.

MORAL ESSAYS

IN

FOUR EPISTLES

то

SEVERAL PERSONS.

Eft brevitate opus, ut currat sententia, neu se
Impediat verbis laffas onerantibus aures:
Et fermone opus eft modo trifti, faepe jocofo,
Defendente vicem modo Rhetoris atque Poetae,
Interdum urbani, parcentis viribus, atque
Extenuantis eas confulto.

HOR.

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