432. L. M. Cotton. A Peaceful Conscience. 1 While some in folly's pleasures roll, And court the joys that hurt the soul, Be mine that silent, calm repast, A conscience peaceful to the last. 2 With this companion in the shade, My soul no more shall be dismayed; But fearless meet life's dreariest gloom, And the pale monarch of the tomb. 3 Amidst the various scenes of ills, Each blow some kind design fulfils; And can I murmur at my God, While love supreme directs the rod? 4 His hand will smooth my rugged way, And lead me to the realms of day; To milder skies, and brighter plains, Where everlasting pleasure reigns.
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