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Translations From The French Of Madame De La Mothe Guion by William Cowper

The Acquiescence of Pure Love

Love! if thy destined sacrifice am I,

Come, slay thy victim, and prepare thy fires;

Plunged in thy depths of mercy, let me die

The death which every soul that lives desires!

I watch my hours, and see them fleet away;

The time is long that I have languished here;

Yet all my thoughts thy purposes obey,

With no reluctance, cheerful and sincere.

To me 'tis equal, whether love ordain

My life or death, appoint me pain or ease;

My soul perceives no real ill in pain;

In ease or health no real good she sees.

One good she covets, and that good alone,

To choose thy will, from selfish bias free;

And to prefer a cottage to a throne,

And grief to comfort, if it pleases thee.

That we should bear the cross is thy command,

Die to the world and live to self no more;

Suffer, unmoved, beneath the rudest hand,

As pleased when shipwrecked as when safe on shore.

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