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Of awful greatness, yet connects us with him, As children, loved and cherish'd;— Adoring awe with tenderness united.

Ay, brave Cordenius, that same thought more moved My rude unletter'd mind than all the rest. I struck my hand against my soldier's mail, And cried, "This faith is worthy of a man!"

Our best philosophers have raised their thoughts To one great universal Lord of all, Lord even of Jove himself and all the gods; But who durst feel for that high, distant Essence, A warmer sentiment than deep submission? But now, adoring love and grateful confidence Cling to th' infinity of power and goodness, As the repentant child turns to his sire With yearning looks, that say, "Am I not thine?" I am too bold: I should be humbled first In penitence and sorrow, for the stains Of many a hateful vice and secret passion.

Check not the generous tenour of thy thoughts: O check it not! Love leads to penitence, And is the noblest, surest path; whilst fear Is dark and devious. To thy home return, And let thy mind well weigh what thou hast heard.