Occasional verse, moral and sacred Published for the instruction and amusement of the Candidly Serious and Religious [by Edward Perronet] |
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CAUSES OF SPIRITUAL DECAY. |
 | Occasional verse, moral and sacred |  |
CAUSES OF SPIRITUAL DECAY.
The
Sin that does so easily beset;
Pride that contemns, and thoughts that Pride beget;
The want of prudence, and the want of care,
Neglect of watching, or contempt of prayer;
The lordly mind, that cannot bear reproof;
Or cloven eye, that mocks the cloven hoof;
The unfeeling heart, or Passion's angry sense,
That stone of stumbling at the least offence:
The love of idols, or the love of ease,
Or lusts that wait some appetite to please,
Some foolish wish, some vain and low desire,
Or sparks of envy from Ambition's fire;
A boast of god, that takes his name in vain,
The hope of interest, or the fear of man;
Some secret passion, half refus'd, yet lov'd,
Some pique encourag'd, or some crime approv'd.
In such a state, in such a frame as this,
How should we but of God and comfort miss!
This were no wonder—the surprize lies here,
That god should suffer, what no flesh would bear:
In heart as harden'd, and a soul as dead,
As yonder mountain that o'erhangs its head.
Pride that contemns, and thoughts that Pride beget;
The want of prudence, and the want of care,
Neglect of watching, or contempt of prayer;
The lordly mind, that cannot bear reproof;
Or cloven eye, that mocks the cloven hoof;
The unfeeling heart, or Passion's angry sense,
That stone of stumbling at the least offence:
The love of idols, or the love of ease,
Or lusts that wait some appetite to please,
Some foolish wish, some vain and low desire,
Or sparks of envy from Ambition's fire;
A boast of god, that takes his name in vain,
The hope of interest, or the fear of man;
Some secret passion, half refus'd, yet lov'd,
Some pique encourag'd, or some crime approv'd.
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How should we but of God and comfort miss!
This were no wonder—the surprize lies here,
That god should suffer, what no flesh would bear:
In heart as harden'd, and a soul as dead,
As yonder mountain that o'erhangs its head.
But, O my God, have mercy, and forgive,
Once more revive me, and my soul shall live;
And then, tho' sifted by the infernal pow'r,
Shall but be winnow'd, to adorn thy floor!”
Once more revive me, and my soul shall live;
And then, tho' sifted by the infernal pow'r,
Shall but be winnow'd, to adorn thy floor!”
| Occasional verse, moral and sacred | |