Submission

No more, my soul, with unremitting grief, Thy hapless fate, unceasingly bewail; Those floods of sorrow cannot yield relief, No tears for evils past can aught avail.

From those black clouds, those veils of darkest hue, O let me turn aside my aching sight, Where fairer prospects open to my view, And, beaming brightness drive away the night.

Religion! only balm the wretched find! Thy healing comforts to my soul apply; Let love of God alone possess my mind, Teach me to live, and teach me more, to die.

That idol! which so long usurp'd thy place, And left no room for any other guest, Despoil'd of every soft and pleasing grace, Shall to its God resign this anxious breast.

Long sought for peace, shall to my mind return; Calm resignation hush my cares to rest; No pulses beat, no ardent wishes burn, Nor sighs for luckless love, shall me molest.

To Heaven my sighs and wishes now ascend, Where love immortal my desires shall fill; For ever blest, when time shall have an end, I still shall live, and do my Maker's will.