Wesley Corpus

Ah I what avails his fame declared Thou blam'st, alas I the just decree Whence Virtue meets its just reward. Though sweeter sounds adorned thy tongue Than Thracian Orpheus whilom played, When list'ning to the morning song Each tree bowed down its leafy head, Never I ah, never from the gloom Of unrelenting Pluto's sway Could the thin shade again resume Its ancient tenement of clay. Indulgent Patience! heav'n-born guest! Thy healing wings around display: Thou gently calm'st the stormy breast And driv'st the tyrant Grief away. Corroding Care and eating Pain By just degrees thy influence own; And lovely lasting Peace again Resumes her long-deserted throne.