An unprecarious, endless bliss!
The soul refin'd
Is most inclin'd
To every moral excellence;
All vice is dull,
A knave's a fool;
And virtue is the child of sense.
The virtuous mind,
Nor wave, nor wind,
Nor civil rage, nor tyrant's frown,
An unprecarious, endless bliss!
The soul refin'd
Is most inclin'd
To every moral excellence;
All vice is dull,
A knave's a fool;
And virtue is the child of sense.
The virtuous mind,
Nor wave, nor wind,
Nor civil rage, nor tyrant's frown,