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thine earthly lot is cast, Whate'er its duties prove, To toil neath Penury's piercing blast, Or share the cell of love, Or 'mid the pomp of wealth to live, Or wield of power the rod, Still as a faithful servant strive To wait alone on God.

Should disappointment's blighting sway Destroy of joy the bloom, Till one by one, thy hopes decay In darkness and the tomb, Should Heaven its cheering smile withhold From thy disastrous fate, And foes arise like billows bold, Still, on Jehovah wait.

When timid dawn her couch forsakes, Or noon-day splendors glide Or eve, her curtain'd pillow takes While watchful stars preside, Or midnight warns the hosts of care Far from his ebon throne, Unwearied in thy fervent prayer Wait thou on God alone.

But should he still conceal his face Till flesh and spirit fail, And bid thee darkly run the race Of Time's receding vale,