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A Hymn.

What Words Jehovah! shall I chuse
T' express my Thanks to Thee?
What reverential Posture use?
Down on my Face or Knee?

62

External Forms may seem devout,
Yet no Acceptance find;
Nor all the Pomp of Words, without
A correspondent Mind.
The Heart's an Index; read me, there
See Gratitude and Praise;
For Competence, a Conscience clear,
With Health, and Length of Days;
For one true Friend, an Offspring large;
And what is dearer still,
For Love, that did my Debts discharge,
And brought from Heav'n Thy Will.
Shall I, O God! thus highly blest,
E'er disobedient prove,
Or make revealed Truths a Jest,
And Sceptick Reas'ning love?
Shall I prefer a transient Sin,
Renounce Thy sacred Laws,
And slight Thy holy Checks within,
To gain the World's Applause?
No; rather let my Hand forget
To guide the passive Quill;
My Eyes in total Darkness set,
My lab'ring Heart stand still.