Why blush and hang the head, cast down the eyes so tame?
What doth a master in disciple always chide?
Why teacheth he in Providence still to confide?
Shouldst thou assert God carelessly makes us to act,—
That sun of verity He hides in mists of fact,—
An answer I will give,—just lend thy ear to me;
Forsake all blasphemy,—of God’s faith ever be:
“The longings, the regrets, that every sick man feels,310
Awakings are of conscience. Sickness this reveals.
The moment man is ailing,—prisoner to bed sent,