Page:Resignation - Edward Young (1762).pdf/25

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Angels stoop forward from their thrones
to hear its joyful lays;
As incense sweet enjoy, and join,
its aromatic praise:

Have we no cause to fear the stroke
of heaven's avenging rod?
When we presume to counteract
a sympathetick God?

If we resign, our patience makes
his rod an armless wand;
If not, it darts a serpent's sting,
like that in Moses' hand;

Like that, it swallows up whate'er
earth's vain magicians bring,
Whose baffled arts would boast below
of joys a rival spring.

Consummate love! the list how large
of blessings from thy hand?
To banish sorrow, and be blest,
is thy supreme command.

Are such commands but ill obey'd?
of bliss, shall we complain?
The man, who dares to be a wretch,
deserves still greater pain:

Joy