1 Thus Augur breath'd his warm desire:
"My God, two favors I require,
"In neither my request deny,
"Vouchafe them both before I die.

2 "Far from my heart and tents exclude
"Those enemies to all that's good,
"Folly, whose pleasures end in death,
"And Falshood's pestilential breath,

3 "Be neither wealth nor want my lot.
"Below the dome, above the cot,
"Let me my life unanxious lead,
"And know not luxury nor need."

4 These wishes, Lord, we make our own
O shed in moderation down
Thy bounties, 'till this mortal breath,
Expiring, tunes thy praise in death!

5 But shouldst thou large possessions give,
May we with thankfulness receive
The exuberance—still our God adore,
And bless the needy from our store!

6 Or should we feel the pains of want,
Submission, resignation grant,
'Till thou shalt send the wish'd supply,
Or call us to the bliss on high.