Discontent

Light human nature is too lightly tost

And ruffled without cause; complaining on—

Restless with rest—until, being overthrown,

It learneth to lie quiet. Let a frost

Or a small wasp have crept to the innermost

Of our ripe peach; or let the wilful sun

Shine westward of our window,—straight we run

A furlong's sigh, as if the world were lost.

But what time through the heart and through the brain

God hath transfixed us,—we, so moved before,

Attain to a calm! Ay, shouldering weights of pain,

We anchor in deep waters, safe from shore;

And here, submissive, o 'er the stormy main,

God's chartered judgments walk for evermore.