Now Warm In Love, Now With'ring In

Choose A Firm Cloud Before It Fall, And In It Catch, Ere She Change, The Cynthia Of This Minute.

Happy The Man Whose Wish And Care A Few Paternal Acres Bound, Content To Breathe His Native Air In His Own Ground.

To Be, Contents His Natural Desire, He Asks No Angel's Wing, No Seraph's Fire; But Thinks, Admitted To That Equal Sky, His Faithful Dog Shall Bear Him Company. Go Wiser Thou! And In Thy Scale Of Sense Weigh Thy Opinion Against Providence.

Know Then, Unnumber'd Spirits Round Thee Fly, The Light Militia Of The Lower Sky.

Who Sees Pale Mammom Pine Amidst His Store, Sees But A Backward Steward For The Poor.