"So, blended all that nature owns,
So, warp'd all hopes that mortals bless—
With boundless wealth, the sufferer's groans;
With courtly luxury, distress.
"Lift up the balance—heap with gold,
Its other shell vile dust shall fill;
And were a kingdom's ransom told,
The scales would want adjustment still.
"Life has its competence—nor deem
That better than enough were more;
Sure it were phantasy to dream
With burdens to assuage thy sore.
"It is the fancy's whirling strife
That breeds thy pain—to-day it craves,
To-morrow spurns—suffices life
When passion asks what passion braves?
"Should appetite her wish achieve,
To herd with brutes her joy would bound;
Pleased other paradise to leave,
Content to pasture on the ground.
"But pride rebels, nor towers alone
Beyond that confine's lowly sphere—
Seems as from the Eternal Throne
It aim'd the sceptre's self to tear.
"'Tis thus we trifle, thus we dare;
But, seek we to our bliss the way,
Let us to Heaven our path refer,
Believe, and worship, and obey.
"That choice is all—to range beyond
Nor must, nor needs; provision, grace,
In these He gives, who sits enthroned,
Salvation, competence, and peace."
The instructive vision pass'd away,
But not its wisdom's dreamless lore;
No more in shadow-tracks I stray,
And fondle shadow-shapes no more.