Who drinks shall still my flowing cups require;
He whose firm heart my precepts still obeys,
With safety walks through life’s perplexing maze;
Who cautious follows where my footsteps lead,
No cares shall feel, no mighty terrors dread.
Small was my stream when first I rolled along,
In clear meanders Eden’s vales among;
With fresh’ning draughts each tender plant I fed,
And bade each flow’ret raise its blushing head;
But soon my torrent o’er its margin rose,