No motive, but my bliss; and hast ordain’d
A rise in blessing! with the patriarch’s joy,
Thy call I follow to the land unknown;
I trust in thee, and know in whom I trust;
Or life, or death, is equal; neither weighs: 150
All weight in this—O let me live to thee!
Though nature’s terrors thus may be repress’d;
Still frowns grim Death; guilt points the tyrant’s spear.
And whence all human guilt? From death forgot.
Ah me! too long I set at nought the swarm