In Argument With Men A Woman Ever

Her Silent Course Advance With Inoffensive Pace, That Spinning Sleeps On Her Soft Axle.

To Many A Youth And Many A Maid, Dancing In The Chequer'd Shade.

God Doth Not Need Either Man's Work Or His Own Gifts. Who Best Bear His Mild Yoke, They Serve Him Best. His State Is Kingly: Thousands At His Bidding Speed, And Post O'er Land And Ocean Without Rest; They Also Serve Who Only Stand And Wait.

Now Conscience Wakes Despair That Slumber'd,-wakes The Bitter Memory Of What He Was, What Is, And What Must Be Worse.

Then Wilt Thou Not Be Loath To Leave This Paradise, But Shalt Possess A Paradise Within Thee, Happier Far.