Soliloquy, A Poem, September 29th, 1746

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400 (400)~~(399)~~
Soliloquy SeptrSeptember 29. 1746.

This Prop &and that successively decays;

Strokes thicken, each Alarm my Heart dismays.

Widow’dWidowed of ev’ryevery earthly flatt’ringflattering Joy,

Sorrows on Sorrows roll without Alloy.

My Country bleeds, &and in it'sits RuinesRuins lie

Thousands! My All's perhaps condemn'dcondemned to die!

Amaz’dAmazed, o’erwhelm'doverwhelmed, without one chearingcheering Ray,

From those dread Scenes qnwhen shall I wing my Way?

To Thee, great God, I lift my fainting Soul,

Who Fierce, devouring Passions canst controulcontrol.

Nature convulsive, wraptwrapped in furious Forms

Calms at thy Word. —Contend shall mortal Worms!

If partial Ill promotes the gen’ralgeneral Good,

Tho'Though Nature shrinks, I kiss the angry Rod.

This, this alone my Spirits can sustain,

That Thou supreme o’erover all yethe World do’st reign.

When I or mine, howe’erhowever decreed to fall,

Shall turn to Dust, be our Eternal All.

Mean while, inspire wtwith Fortitude Divine;

In Prisons &and in Death thy Face make Shine.

Thy Smiles, O God, each Trial can unsting,

And out of Gall itself ev’neven Sweetness bring.