4
While sweet Content sat smiling at the door,
Cheering the labours of the happy poor;
And, when the sacred day of rest appear'd,
No bigot's eye the honest rustic fear'd,
But clean though homely, in their best attir'd,
The poor, with humble gratitude inspir'd,
Repair'd to thank their God for blessings given,
And favour and protection beg of heaven;
Now, without fear of ill, they gladly heard
The pious man who taught the sacred word:
Religion's precepts dwelt upon his tongue,
And truth persuasive on his accents hung;
He strew'd with sweetest flow'rs the way to heav'n,
And made the roughest paths of duty even;
Show'd the broad road of vice, beset by pain,
And quickly brought the wand'rer back again.
He led them on by reason's silver cord;
His frown was punishment—his smile, reward;
He made their cares, their sorrows, all his own,
He cherish'd Genius, where her seeds were sown,
Cheering the labours of the happy poor;
And, when the sacred day of rest appear'd,
No bigot's eye the honest rustic fear'd,
But clean though homely, in their best attir'd,
The poor, with humble gratitude inspir'd,
Repair'd to thank their God for blessings given,
And favour and protection beg of heaven;
Now, without fear of ill, they gladly heard
The pious man who taught the sacred word:
Religion's precepts dwelt upon his tongue,
And truth persuasive on his accents hung;
He strew'd with sweetest flow'rs the way to heav'n,
And made the roughest paths of duty even;
Show'd the broad road of vice, beset by pain,
And quickly brought the wand'rer back again.
He led them on by reason's silver cord;
His frown was punishment—his smile, reward;
He made their cares, their sorrows, all his own,
He cherish'd Genius, where her seeds were sown,
