Nobly to scorn thy gilded veil to wear,
Soft Simulation!—wisely to abstain
From fostering Envy's asps;—to dash the bane
Far from our hearts, which Hate, with frown severe,
Extends for those who wrong us;—to revere
With soul, or grateful, or resign'd, the train
Of mercies, and of trials, is to gain
A quiet Conscience, best of blessings here!—
Calm Conscience is a land-encircled bay,
On whose smooth surface Tempests never blow;
Which shall the reflex of our life display
Unstain'd by crime, tho' gloom'd with transient woe;
While the bright hopes of Heaven's eternal day
Upon the fair and silent waters glow.