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 | Miscellanies (1785) |  |
Blest be the hand that lends the power to feel,
And frames us subject to the wounds we heal,
That urges all to minister relief,
And instant fly with open arms to grief;
That veils the soft attraction in a tear,
Each bliss makes poignant, and each sorrow dear;
Eternal incense from the soul ascend
To him who made each being want a friend,
Who plac'd us in a world 'twixt sun and shade,
That those which bloom might succour those that fade;
And doubly bless'd the providence, whose skill
In life's thin loom has woven many an ill;
Tho' weak the texture, from that weakness springs
The strength and beauty of all human things;
For still as fate or nature deals the blow,
The balms we now solicit, now bestow,
And all our miseries but clearly prove
The social powers of pity and of love.
And frames us subject to the wounds we heal,
That urges all to minister relief,
And instant fly with open arms to grief;
That veils the soft attraction in a tear,
Each bliss makes poignant, and each sorrow dear;
Eternal incense from the soul ascend
To him who made each being want a friend,
Who plac'd us in a world 'twixt sun and shade,
That those which bloom might succour those that fade;
And doubly bless'd the providence, whose skill
In life's thin loom has woven many an ill;
46
The strength and beauty of all human things;
For still as fate or nature deals the blow,
The balms we now solicit, now bestow,
And all our miseries but clearly prove
The social powers of pity and of love.
| Miscellanies (1785) | |