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Religion! thou the soul of happiness,
And, groaning Calvary, of thee! There shine
The noblest truths; there strongest motives sting;
There sacred violence assaults the soul;
There nothing but compulsion is forborne.
Can love allure us, or can terror awe?
He weeps!—the falling drop puts out the sun;
He sighs!—the sigh earth's deep foundation shakes.
If in His love so terrible, what then
His wrath inflamed, His tenderness on fire?
Like soft, smooth oil, outblazing other fires!
Can prayer, can praise avert it?—Thou, my all!
My theme, my inspiration, and my crown!
My strength in age, my rise in low estate!
My soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth, my world!
My light in darkness, and my life in death!
My boast through time, bliss through eternity!

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Eternity, too short to speak Thy praise,
Or fathom Thy profound of love to man!
To man of men the meanest, e'en to me;
My Sacrifice, my God!—what things are these?