UNDER THE PRESSURE OF VIOLENT ANGUISH.
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"There was a certain period of my life," says Burns, "that my spiritwas broke by repeated losses and disasters, which threatened andindeed effected the ruin of my fortune. My body, too, was attacked bythe most dreadful distemper, a hypochondria or confirmed melancholy.In this wretched state, the recollection of which makes me yetshudder, I hung my harp on the willow-trees, except in some lucidintervals, in one of which I composed the following."] O Thou Great Being! what Thou artSurpasses me to know;Yet sure I am, that known to TheeAre all Thy works below. Thy creature here before Thee stands,All wretched and distrest;Yet sure those ills that wring my soulObey Thy high behest. Sure Thou, Almighty, canst not actFrom cruelty or wrath!O, free my weary eyes from tears,Or close them fast in death! But if I must afflicted be,To suit some wise design;Then, man my soul with firm resolvesTo bear and not repine! * * * * *
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