Let not the curious from your bosom…

Let not the curious from your bosom steal Secrets, where prudence ought to set her seal; Yet be so frank and plain, that at one view, In other things, each man may see you thro'.

GOD of my soul! without thy strength'ning grace, How weak, how poor, how blind, is human race! To sound thy praise, ten thousand worlds agree, And nature lifts the grateful song to thee; To thee, with awe, the brute creation bends, When thunder bursts, or stormy rain descends; Obedient to thy will, the rocks and trees Now rest in snow, now bless the vernal breeze; Yet man, presuming on his glimm'ring sense, Rash man alone disclaims thy Providence; The truths he dare not controvert, denies, And 'gainst conviction shuts his ears and eyes.

OUR follies, when display'd, ourselves affright, Few are so bad, to bear the hideous sight; Mankind in herds, thro' force of custom stray, Mislead each other into error's way, Pursue the road, forgetful of the end, Sin by mistake, and without thought offend.