But we,—as some rude guest
Would change, where'er he roam,
The manners there professed
To those he brings from home,—
We mark not the world's course, but would have it take ours.
The world's course proves the terms
On which man wins content;
Reason the proof confirms:
We spurn it, and invent
A false course for the world, and for ourselves false powers.
Riches we wish to get,
Yet remain spendthrifts still;
We would have health, and yet
Still use our bodies ill;
Bafflers of our own prayers, from youth to life's last scenes.
We would have inward peace,
Yet will not look within;
We would have misery cease,
Yet will not cease from sin;
We want all pleasant ends, but will use no harsh means;
We do not what we ought;
What we ought not, we do;
And lean upon the thought
That chance will bring us through:
But our own acts, for good or ill, are mightier powers.
Yet even when man forsakes
All sin,—is just, is pure,
Abandons all which makes
His welfare insecure,—
Other existences there are, that clash with ours.
