Epigraph: Man is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward - Job C.5, v.7
All-gracious Providence, how wise and good/ Are all thy ways! were they but understood/ by blind, weak mortals, we should then perceive/ That which by faith alone, we now believe;-/ That nought's permitted howsoe'er it tend/ in our strong view, but is some wise end, / Ordained by Him who only can discern/ How pain to pleasure - ill to good my turn! - Australia, a Poem by the Author