204
These only are the joys that cannot fail:
And their hearts glow, although their cheek be pale.
Does strong temptation try them, there they fly,
And put on their immortal panoply,
Own their own weakness, but in Christian strength
Grow strong, and come off conquerors at length,
Higher and holier rising,till at last
Temptation's self shall weaken and be past;
And. making theirs His high and blessed will,
Who bids the human heart beat, or be still,
Resigned, and happy, they receive their lot,
No mortal change to them, where God is not.
Being of Beings! whose unbounded love
Exceeds all thought that human heart can prove:
Whose mercy, felt in every moment's breath,
Guides us through life, and succours us in death;
Whose providential care, whose tenderness,
Nor mind can reach, nor human power express;
To whom the incense of one grateful prayer,
From the weak creatures thou hast made thy care.
Is more than all the pomp of sacrifice;
Who, though enthroned beyond the radiant skies,
Yet watchest mortal virtue—to thy shrine
Would I devote this humble verse of mine,
Aware, though million worlds seek thy behest,
Yet is Thy temple in the human breast.
And their hearts glow, although their cheek be pale.
Does strong temptation try them, there they fly,
And put on their immortal panoply,
Own their own weakness, but in Christian strength
Grow strong, and come off conquerors at length,
Higher and holier rising,till at last
Temptation's self shall weaken and be past;
And. making theirs His high and blessed will,
Who bids the human heart beat, or be still,
Resigned, and happy, they receive their lot,
No mortal change to them, where God is not.
Being of Beings! whose unbounded love
Exceeds all thought that human heart can prove:
Whose mercy, felt in every moment's breath,
Guides us through life, and succours us in death;
Whose providential care, whose tenderness,
Nor mind can reach, nor human power express;
To whom the incense of one grateful prayer,
From the weak creatures thou hast made thy care.
Is more than all the pomp of sacrifice;
Who, though enthroned beyond the radiant skies,
Yet watchest mortal virtue—to thy shrine
Would I devote this humble verse of mine,
Aware, though million worlds seek thy behest,
Yet is Thy temple in the human breast.
