To pay his tax—devotion!—day and night;
The pains of hell his timid bosom awe,
And force obedience to the church's law:
Hence that continual thought, that solemn air,
Those sad good works, and that laborious prayer.
All these (when conscience, waken'd and afraid
To think how avarice calls and is obey'd)
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He in his journal finds, and for his grief
Obtains the transient opium of relief.