 | Poems |  |
FROM THE GOSPEL.
SONNET.
'Twere pleasant to true Christians, when they meetAt their dear Master's board, to know that there
All hearts, with one accord, combine in prayer
Deep, pure, sincere, before Heaven's mercy-seat,
Aright discerning what they drink and eat.
Nor some to taunt our English Church forbear,
For that she guards, say they, with slender care,
Her altars from approach of reckless feet.
Such laxity to error is akin;
Yet error—all, like this, on mercy's side,
Methinks, can scarce deserve the brand of sin;
For who, without dire mischief, shall divide
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The tares, their roots extending deep and wide?
| Poems | |