Take thou His precepts to thine inmost heart 

 That thy lost blessings may revisit thee. 

 Put far away thy foster'd sins, and share 

 The swelling flood-tide of prosperity. 

 Thou shalt have silver at thy will, and gold, 

 The gold of Ophir in thy path shall lie 

 As stones that pave the brooks. 

 Make thou thy prayer, 

 And pay thy vows, and He will hear thy voice 

 And give thee light, and thy desires confirm: 

 For He will save the humble and protect 

 The innocent and still deliver those 

 Whose hands are pure." 

 To whom, the Man of Uz, 

 "Oh that I knew where I might find my Judge, 

 That I might press even to His seat, and plead 

 My cause before Him. Would He strike me dumb 

 With His great power? Nay,—rather would he give 

 Strength to the weakness that would answer Him. 

 Lo! I go forward,—but He is not there,— 

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