For Men To Tell How Human Life

There Is No Christian Duty That Is Not To Be Seasoned And Set Off With Cheerishness, Which In A Thousand Outward And Intermitting Crosses May Yet Be Done Well, As In This Vale Of Tears.

Now The Bright Morning-star, Day's Harbinger, Comes Dancing From The East.

Oft, On A Plat Of Rising Ground, I Hear The Far-off Curfew Sound Over Some Wide-watered Shore, Swinging Low With Sullen Roar.

Indu'd With Sanctity Of Reason.

Few Sometimes May Know, When Thousands Err.