“By dear experience now I know,
That virtue’s only bliss below,”
He, sighing, said, in sad despair,
And thus prefers a falt’ring pray’r:
“Ye gracious pow’rs who rule above!
Who virtue and it’s vot’ries love!
I see my fault, my fault repent,
And own I ask’d the pains you sent.
I now th’ unrighteous thought forego.
That vice is bliss, and virtue woe: