I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers,
Will rising wonders sing: I cannot go
Where Universal Love not smiles around,
Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their sons;
From seeming evil still educing good,
And better thence again, and better still,
In infinite progression. But I lose

Myself in Him, in Light ineffable!

Come then, expressive Silence, muse His praise.

O MORTAL man, who livest here by toil,
Do not complain of this thy hard estate,
That like an emmet thou must ever moil
Is a sad sentence of an ancient date,
And, certes, there is for it reason great;
For, though sometimes it makes thee weep and wail,
And curse thy stars, and early drudge and late,
Withouten that would come an heavier bale,

Loose life, unruly passions, and diseases pale.