Set All Things In Their Own Peculiar

The Good We Have Enjoyed From Heaven's Free Will, And Shall We Murmur To Endure The Ill?

To Draw True Beauty Shows A Master's Hand.

An Hour Will Come, With Pleasure To Relate Your Sorrows Past, As Benefits Of Fate.

Desire Of Power, On Earth A Vicious Weed, Yet, Sprung From High, Is Of Celestial Seed: In God 'tisglory; And When Men Aspire, 'tis But A Spark Too Much Of Heavenly Fire.

Griefs Assured Are Felt Before They Come.