Poems (1905) :: :: University of Virginia Library

Ye blessed of your gracious Lord,
Felt you not, in that glorious Day,
By Force of that all-powerful Word
Your Nature's Evil die away?
Ye must your Saviour's Mercy feel,
Who came the World's Disease to heal.

Felt ye not, at the powerful word,
The Innocence of Man restored;
Was it not to your Souls revealed,
The fountain of your Sin was healed?

Did ye not feel the Saviour's Love,
With such peculiar Favour graced;
Lifted the World of Sin above;
In Mercy's Ark securely placed;
From all that vexes, wounds and harms,
Protected in your Saviour's Arms?

Felt you, as Life advanced, the Sin
That to our better Nature cleaves;
Or was there not the Guard within,
His Strength who in his Lord believes;
Did not that healing Touch controul
The Evil that assaults the Soul?

Knew ye not, as your Race ye ran,
And felt the Passions' strong alarms,
That He who came and died for Man
Had blest and held you in His Arms?

Ye were a favour'd few; but all
By Frailty griev'd, by Sin opprest,
Who hear and who obey the Call—
“Come unto me”—shall find their Rest.

But Sinners who that Mercy seek
As little Children must appear;
Their Misery must their Wishes speak—
Repentant, humble, meek, sincere.
Let such appear with faithful Hearts
And feel the Hope that Faith imparts,
And they shall find that holy Rest
In their Redeemer's mercy blest.