The joys above this prudent man invite
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)
He in his journal finds, and for his grief
Obtains the transient opium of relief.