CHEERFULNESS.
“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine.”
With mirth let us cherish our hearts,
’Tis a precept by Solomon given,
And cheerfulness surely imparts
The temper best fitted for heaven.
Among all the numberless ways
By which folly contrives to be wrong,
There is none which more weakness displays
Than wearing a visage too long.
Th’ Omnipotent Donor designs
That the gifts of His grace be enjoy’d;
Hence, he that forever repines,
Had better be better employ’d.
When first was created our race,
This earth for man’s mansion was given,
And shall he find fault with the place
To which he’s allotted by heav’n?
’Tis a thing, I believe, understood,
In which every sect is agreed,
This earth was declared to be good,
And so in the Bible we read.
Under Providence, tenants at will,
A fine habitation we hold;
For us to be murmuring still
Is wicked, ungrateful and bold.
Yet well-meaning people I’ve seen,
Who think true religion is shown
By a sort of a wo-begone mein,
And a whining, conventicle tone.
’Tis true, there’s a season to mourn,
As Solomon says—ne’ertheless
Our grief should be manfully borne,
And ’tis folly to cherish distress.
A train of diseases await
On a heart that forever is sad,
And some, from a sorrowing state,
Become irretrievably mad.
That religion can never be true
Which bows its disciples to earth,
For he that has heav’n in view,
Has the best of all titles to mirth.
With mirth then we’ll cherish our hearts,
’Tis a mandate by Solomon given,
For cheerfulness surely imparts
The temper best fitted for heaven.