To lay the soul that loves him low, br Becomes the Only–wise: br To hide beneath a veil of woe, br The children of the skies. br br Man, though a worm, would yet be great; br Though feeble, would seem strong; br Assumes an independent state, br By sacrilege and wrong. br br Strange the reverse, which, once abased, br The haughty creature proves! br He feels his soul a barren waste, br Nor dares affirm he loves. br br Scorned by the thoughtless and the vain, br To God he presses near; br Superior to the world's disdain, br And happy in its sneer. br br Oh welcome, in his heart he says, br Humility and shame! br Farewell the wish for human praise, br The music of a name! br br But will not scandal mar the good br That I might else perform? br And can God work it, if he would, br By so despised a worm? br br Ah, vainly anxious!—leave the Lord br To rule thee, and dispose; br Sweet is the mandate of his word, br And gracious all he does. br br He draws from human littleness br His grandeur and renown; br And generous hearts with joy confess br The triumph all his own. br br Down, then, with self–exalting thoughts; br Thy faith and hope employ, br To welcome all that he allots, br And suffer shame with joy. br br No longer, then, thou wilt encroach br On his eternal right; br And he shall smile at thy approach, br And make thee his delight.