Yet Heaven's decrees are just and wise, And man is born to bear; Joy is the portion of the skies, Beneath them all is care. Yet blame not Heav'n; 't is erring man Who mars his own best joys; Whose passion uncontroll'd the plan Of promis'd bliss destroys. The deadliest wounds with which we bleed, Our crimes inflict alone: Man's mercies from God's hand proceed. His miseries from his own. |