Page:Poetical Works of the Right Hon. Geo. Granville.djvu/164

152 Whither, whither art thou flying? Loſt in ſweet tumultuous dying, Whither, whither art thou flying, O my Soul!

O my Soul! Whither, whither art thou flying? Loſt in ſweet tumultuous dying, Whither whither art thou flying, O my Soul!

When the ſtorm is blown over How bleſs’d is the ſwain Who begins to diſcover An end of his pain! When the ſtorm, &c.