Light human nature is too lightly tost
    And ruffled without cause, complaining on 
    Restless with rest, until, being overthrown,
    It learneth to lie quiet. Let a frost
    Or a small wasp have crept to the inner-most
    Of our ripe peach, or let the wilful sun
    Shine westward of our window, straight we run
    A furlong's sigh as if the world were lost.
    But what time through the heart and through the brain
    God hath transfixed us, we, so moved before,
    Attain to a calm. Ay, shouldering weights of pain,
    We anchor in deep waters, safe from shore,
    And hear submissive o'er the stormy main
    God's chartered judgments walk for evermore.


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