Divine Justice Amiable

Thou hast no lightnings, O thou Just!
Or I their force should know;
And if thou strike me into dust,
My soul approves the blow.

The heart, that values less its ease,
Than it adores thy ways;
In thine avenging anger, sees
A subject of its praise.

Pleas'd, I could lie conceal'd, and lost
In shades of central night;
Not to avoid thy wrath, thou know'st,
But lest I grieve thy sight.

Smite me, O thou whom I provoke!
And I will love thee still:
The well deserv'd and righteous stroke
Shall please me, though it kill.

Am I not worthy, to sustain
The worst thou canst devise;
And dare I seek thy throne again,
And meet thy sacred eyes?

Far from afflicting, thou art kind;
And in my saddest hours,
An unction of thy grace I find,
Pervading all my pow'rs.

Alas! thou spar'st me yet again;
And when thy wrath should move,
Too gentle to endure my pain,
Thou sooth'st me with thy Love.

I have no punishment to fear;
But Ah! that smile from thee,
Imparts a pang, far more severe
Than woe itself would be.