For parasites to scorn thy friend;
And pamper'd vanity incline
To wilful blindness such as mine!

"'Thee to the altar yet I bring!
Hear me, my Saviour and my King!
Again I for my child resign
All worldly good! but make her thine!
Let her soft footsteps gently move,
Nor waken grief, nor injure love;
Carelessly trampling on the ground
That priceless gem, so rarely found;
That treasure, which, should angels guard,
Would all their vigilance reward!

"'My mind refuses still to fear
She should be cold or insincere;
That aught like meanness should debase
One of our rash and wayward race,
No! most I dread intemperate pride,
Deaf ardour, reckless, and untried,
With firm controul and skilful rein,
Its hurrying fever to restrain!

"'Others might wish their soul's delight
Should be most lovely to the sight;
And beauty vainly I ador'd,
Serv'd with my eye, my tongue, my sword;
Nay, let me not from truth depart!
Enshrin'd and worship'd it at heart.