 | The Poems of John Byrom |  |
A DYING SPEECH;
From Mr. Law.
460
In this unhappily divided State
That Christian Churches have been in of late,
One must, however catholic the Heart,
Join and conform to some divided Part.
The Church of England is the Part, that I
Have always liv'd in, and now choose to die;
Trusting, that if I worship God with her
In Spirit and in Truth, I shall not err;
But as acceptable to Him be found,
As if, in Times for one pure Church renown'd
Born, I had also liv'd in Heart and Soul,
A faithful Member of the unbroken Whole.
That Christian Churches have been in of late,
One must, however catholic the Heart,
Join and conform to some divided Part.
The Church of England is the Part, that I
Have always liv'd in, and now choose to die;
Trusting, that if I worship God with her
In Spirit and in Truth, I shall not err;
But as acceptable to Him be found,
As if, in Times for one pure Church renown'd
Born, I had also liv'd in Heart and Soul,
A faithful Member of the unbroken Whole.
As I am now, by God's good Will, to go
From this disorder'd State of Things below;
Into His Hands as I am now to fall,
Who is the Great Creator of us all,—
God of all Churches that implore His Aid,—
Lover of all the Souls that He hath made;
Whose Kingdom, that of Universal Love,
Must have its blest Inhabitants above.
From ev'ry Class of Men, from all the good,
Howe'er descended from one human Blood:—
So, in this loving Spirit, I desire,
As in the midst of all their sacred Quire,
With Rites prescrib'd and with a Christian View
Of all the World to take my last Adieu;
Willing in Heart and Spirit to unite
With ev'ry Church in what is just and right,
Holy and good, and worthy in its Kind
Of God's Acceptance from an honest Mind;
Praying, that ev'ry Church may have its Saints
And rise to that Perfection which it wants.
From this disorder'd State of Things below;
Into His Hands as I am now to fall,
Who is the Great Creator of us all,—
God of all Churches that implore His Aid,—
Lover of all the Souls that He hath made;
461
Must have its blest Inhabitants above.
From ev'ry Class of Men, from all the good,
Howe'er descended from one human Blood:—
So, in this loving Spirit, I desire,
As in the midst of all their sacred Quire,
With Rites prescrib'd and with a Christian View
Of all the World to take my last Adieu;
Willing in Heart and Spirit to unite
With ev'ry Church in what is just and right,
Holy and good, and worthy in its Kind
Of God's Acceptance from an honest Mind;
Praying, that ev'ry Church may have its Saints
And rise to that Perfection which it wants.
Father, Thy Kingdom come! Thy Sacred Will
May all the Tribes of humam Race fulfil;
Thy Name be prais'd by ev'ry living Breath,
Author of Life and Vanquisher of Death!
May all the Tribes of humam Race fulfil;
Thy Name be prais'd by ev'ry living Breath,
Author of Life and Vanquisher of Death!
| The Poems of John Byrom | |