11
REFLECTIONSON A SUNDAY MORNING.
From sleep I wake refresh'd, and rise
With peace and sweet tranquillity,
Shedding around me all their joys—
No busy hum of mortals' toil,
No vain joys and senseless pleasures,
Nor the venom'd dart of slander
Reach me;—I stand accountable
To God alone, who makes yon sun
To rise both on good and evil.
What are now the boasted riches
Of the world? what are its pleasures—
Its glories what? Can they afford
One feeling that e'er can equal
With peace and sweet tranquillity,
Shedding around me all their joys—
No busy hum of mortals' toil,
No vain joys and senseless pleasures,
Nor the venom'd dart of slander
Reach me;—I stand accountable
To God alone, who makes yon sun
To rise both on good and evil.
What are now the boasted riches
Of the world? what are its pleasures—
Its glories what? Can they afford
One feeling that e'er can equal
