Here, disappointments my best schemes destroy; Perfection there on ev'ry good shall grow. Here, my fond heart is fasten'd on some friend, Whose kindness may, whose life must have an end: But there, no failure can I ever prove, GOD cannot disappoint, for God is love. Here, Christ for sinners suffer'd, groan'd, and bled; Here, error clouds the will, and dims the sight; The joy of ev'ry saint shall there be mine. THE IMPOSSIBILITY CONQUERED: OR, LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOUR AS YOURSELF. IN THE MANNER OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. THE OBJECTOR. EACH man who lives, the Scriptures prove, I'll prove how hard it is to find A lover of this wondrous kind. II. Who loves himself to great excess, Then if self-love most men inthrall, Say, can the man who hoards up pelf Then tell me, friend, can hoarding elves IV. The man whose heart is bent on pleasure Then how can pleasure-hunting elves Can he whom sloth and loit'ring please Can't love their neighbour as themselves. VI. He whose gross appetites enslave him, Who spends on feasts the wealth God gave him; Full, pamper'd, gorged at ev'ry meal, He cannot for the empty feel. How can such gormandising elves E'er love their neighbour as themselves? Then since the man who lusts for gold, Where shall we hope the man to find I dare not blame God's holy word, But sure the rule's of no avail If placed so high that all must fail; That any can his neighbour love. THE ANSWERER. IX. Yes, such there are of heavenly mould, He, only he, the Scriptures prove, Then join, to make a perfect plan, This done, no more in vain you'll labour, If then the rule's too hard to please ye, "In vain shall feeble nature try." 'Tis true; but know a CHRISTIAN is a creature Who does things quite impossible to nature. AND JOYFUL ANTICIPATIONS: ON BEING IMPORTUNED BY A FRIEND TO WRITE VERSES WHEN I WAS VERY ILL. I WRITE in verse? how hard to ask! Expect to ask in vain, A hand unequal to the task, A head oppress'd with pain. I lov'd, indeed, the Muse when young, Yet dwell I oft on scenes long past, There tender recollections last For Mem'ry still delights to trace The rigid Moralist was ours, At once both rough and kind. * * When the author asked Dr. Johnson why he put his hands behind him when the celebrated French infidel Abbé Raynal held out his hand to him, his answer was, No, child; I will not shake hands with an Atheist to please you or any body else." |