Classic Poem

I.

Content with whatever thy bounty allows,
I sigh for no jewel to beam on my brows,
What Y OU give, I receive, at no trifle distrest,
And my prison, my cave, or my cottage is blest.

II.

Let the great in their mansions of worship sublime,
Bend prostrate and pour their oblations around;
I but offer, my God, the pure incense of rhime,
Thy forest my chapel — my altar thy ground!

III.

Thine eye of beneficence smiles on my zeal,
I feel a true ardor — 'tis heav'n that I feel,
No full choir of music I claim, but instead,
Thy warblers of innocence hymn o'er my head.

IV.

Methinks a bright vision of H OPE gilds the air,
Thy influence benign, breathes a lustre thro' all,
Far hence, fly R EPINING , R EMORSE and D ESPAIR ,
I die, while I live, but I live, when I fall!

V.

Then shed thy calm gladness, fair Mercy, if just,
Or rather with sorrows my spirits refine,
Then the sun-beam of safety extract from my dust,
And mark my dim grave with a radiance divine.