Ah, John! bethink thee of thy generous joy,
When Conscience drove thee from thy late employ;
When thou wert poor, and knew not where to run, 330
But then could say, “The will of God be done!”
When thou that will, and not thine own, obey’d—
Of Him alone, and not of man afraid.
Thou then hadst pity on that wretch, and, free
Thyself, couldst pray for him who injured thee;
Then how alert thy step, thyself how light
All the day long! thy sleep how sound at night!