What! shall a man, a sinful man,
A worm with God contend;
Dispute his will, his counsel scan,
His rule of justice mend!

Shall we receive his blessings grand,
Yet frowardly complain,
Whenever his afflicting hand
Creates us any pain!

Patience in trouble, though severe,
We should submissive shew;
Blessings are not, yea, never were,
But troubles are our due.