| STERN Daughter of the Voice of God! | |
| O Duty! if that name thou love, | |
| Who art a light to guide, a rod | |
| To check the erring and reprove; | |
| Thou, who art victory and law | 5 |
| When empty terrors overawe; | |
| From vain temptations dost set free; | |
| And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity! | |
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| There are who ask not if thine eye | |
| Be on them; who, in love and truth, | 10 |
| Where no misgiving is, rely | |
| Upon the genial sense of youth: | |
| Glad hearts! without reproach or blot; | |
| Who do thy work, and know it not: | |
| O, if through confidence misplaced | 15 |
| They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast. | |
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| Serene will be our days and bright, | |
| And happy will our nature be, | |
| When love is an unerring light, | |
| And joy its own security. | 20 |
| And they a blissful course may hold | |
| Even now, who, not unwisely bold, | |
| Live in the spirit of this creed; | |
| Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need. | |
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| I, loving freedom, and untried; | 25 |
| No sport of every random gust, | |
| Yet being to myself a guide, | |
| Too blindly have reposed my trust: | |
| And oft, when in my heart was heard | |
| Thy timely mandate, I deferr'd | 30 |
| The task, in smoother walks to stray; | |
| But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may. | |
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| Through no disturbance of my soul, | |
| Or strong compunction in me wrought, | |
| I supplicate for thy control; | 35 |
| But in the quietness of thought. | |
| Me this uncharter'd freedom tires; | |
| I feel the weight of chance-desires; | |
| My hopes no more must change their name, | |
| I long for a repose that ever is the same. | 40 |
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| Yet not the less would I throughout | |
| Still act according to the voice | |
| Of my own wish; and feel past doubt | |
| That my submissiveness was choice: | |
| Not seeking in the school of pride | 45 |
| For 'precepts over dignified,' | |
| Denial and restraint I prize | |
| No farther than they breed a second Will more wise. | |
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| Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear | |
| The Godhead's most benignant grace; | 50 |
| Nor know we anything so fair | |
| As is the smile upon thy face: | |
| Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, | |
| And fragrance in thy footing treads; | |
| Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; | 55 |
| And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong. | |
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| To humbler functions, awful Power! | |
| I call thee: I myself commend | |
| Unto thy guidance from this hour; | |
| O, let my weakness have an end! | 60 |
| Give unto me, made lowly wise, | |
| The spirit of self-sacrifice; | |
| The confidence of reason give; | |
| And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live! | |
