The primal passion of righteousness!
Scarce by the pitiful thwarted plan,
The haste, or the studious fears of man
Drawing a discord from best delight,
The measure is meted of God most wise;
Nor the future, with her adjusted eyes,
Shall speak us false in our dying fight.
But e’en to me now some use is clear
In the builded truth down-beaten here
For any along the way to spurn,