Perfect, and all must be at length restor'd,
So God has greatly purpos'd: who would else
In his dishonor'd works himself endure
Dishonor, and be wrong'd without redress.
Haste then, and wheel away a shatter'd world,
Ye slow-revolving seasons! we would see
(A sight to which our eyes are strangers yet)
A world that does not dread and hate his laws,
And suffer for its crime; would learn how fair
The creature is, that God pronounces good,