Smiling in sweet repose, his glad adieu, 415
All nature radiant with his glowing hue.
Thus cheering, bright’ning o’er earth’s darker soil,
Affection’s sunbeam gilds our daily toil;
That arduous post we all are called to fill,
In the set battle betwixt good and ill! 420
Vain there the subtlest panoply of proof,
Take thou nor spear, nor buckler, save the truth.
What are thy vaunted saws—Philosophy!
Summed up and brought before the Christian’s eye?