 | Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761 |  |
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BOOK II.
[_]
(It has been my usual Method for some Time, after studying a Sermon, to cast a few Thoughts into a poetical Form, either containing the Substance of the Sermon, or expressive of my Disposition in composing it. The following Poems were written on such Occasions.)
I. The obstinate Security of Sinners lamented. (annext to a Sermon on Matt. iii. 10. April 15, 1750.)
I.
Unhappy Man, allur'd by Sin,Still drinks the deadly Poison in;
And tho' expos'd to endless Woes
Still lolls secure in dull Repose.
Tho' Thousands daily from his Side
Are snatch'd by Death's resistless Hand,
And hurry'd to the infernal Land;
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Unheeded by: still busily employ'd
In Chace of Toys; and while bright Prospects rise
Thro' false Futurity, and charm his Eyes,
Death unexpected comes; the Prospects fly
Like vane'd Smoke that once allur'd his Eye,
And all his flatt'ring Expectations die.—
Not so the deathless Soul; but torn
Reluctant, from her ancient Seat,
She sinks tormented and forlorn
Into the Flames she once could scorn,
But now bewails, alas, too late!
II.
What Eye can view the mournful Scene,And not dissolve in Tears!
Ah! who shall warn unthinking Man,
And fill his Breast with useful Tears?
Warn him!—'Tis all in vain;
He scorns the Fears that human Pity sheds;
Nay, laughs at all the melting Arguments
Which Love Divine itself invents;
Nor loves the Saviour tho' for him he bleeds,
And dies in Tortures, Agonies and Pain!
III.
Ah! what can Thy poor Servant do?See, here he sits in fruitless Grief!
While thoughtless Mortals all around
Perish with Mercy's charming Sound
Loud in their Ears; perish just in his View,
And he looks on, but can give no Relief!
A feeble Mortal's Breath
Cannot speak Life to them that sleep in Death.
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IV.
Then since I can't prevailTo snatch my Fellow-Man from Hell!
Since heedless of Disuasives, down
The dread Descent with full Career they run,
Nor pause at Mercy's loudest Call;
Let me retire, and o'er them weep
As down they sink into the fiery Deep,
And my poor Tears pursue them as they fall!
V.
Maker of Souls! to Thee, once more to TheeI turn my interceeding Cry!
See how Thy wretched Progeny
Madly destroy themselves and die
By Thousands in Thy Sight!
O! let Thy Sovereign Grace appear,
And stop them in their mad Career;
Turn them from the frequented Path
That leads unerring down to Death
And everlasting Night.
II. Penitential Sorrows. (annext to a Sermon on Luke xiii. 3.)
I.
1.
With bleeding Hearts, and gushing Eyes,With deep Repentance and Surprize,
We take a tedious, sad Survey
Of Sins of Heart and Lip and Way.
2.
Early we left the sacred RoadThat leads to Bliss, prescrib'd by God,
And rashly run a long Career
Toward the dark Regions of Despair.
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3.
Our very Nature's all unclean,All ruin'd and defil'd by Sin:
And filthy Currents from that Source
Have flow'd with an incessant Course.
4.
The God that taught our Lungs to heave,And still gives Rebels Leave to live;
Whose Bounties have perpetual flow'd;
Ah! we have griev'd that Gracious God.
5.
The Terrors of the fiery LawCould not alarm our Hearts with Awe:
Nor would these stubborn Hearts be won
Ev'n by the Gospel of the Son.
6.
Our guilty Ears heard all aroundHis melting Invitations sound;
And Jesus too, with Groans and Blood,
Such unrelenting Rebels woo'd.
7.
And yet we live! amazing Grace!Nor yet quite desperate in our Case;
The Saviour still, with heav'nly Charms,
Stands calling Sinners to his Arms.
8.
Jesus! we yield! no more, no moreWill we offend Thee, as before,
Here, Lord! submissive at Thy Feet,
We for Thy sovereign Pleasure wait.
9.
O Thou Almighty, injur'd Name!O'erwhelm'd with Grief, and flush'd with Shame,
Prostrate before Thee, see we lie!
Frown us not from Thee, lest we die.
10.
O may that Blood we once could slightWash our polluted Spirits white!
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For guilty Worms on Earth forgiven.
III. SELF-DEDICATION. (annext to a Sermon on Rom. vi. 13. June 15, 1750.)
1.
To Him that form'd this mortal Frame.And still inspires my Lungs to heave,
From whom my nobler Spirit came,
My Flesh, my Soul, my All I give.
2.
When Heav'n, and Life, and All were lost,Jesus redeem'd them, with his Blood;
Great was the Ransom, vast the Cost,
The Blood of an incarnate God!
3.
And can my stubborn Heart withstandThe Invitations of His Love!
No; I resign me to His Hand,
And to His loft Embraces move.
4.
Yes, my dear Jesus, here I giveAll that I am and have to Thee;
To Thee I'll die, to Thee I'll live;
No other Lord shall govern me.
5.
Let not a Motion of my Heart,From Thee once venture to depart;
But bound with lasting Bands of Love,
O! let me, let me ne'er remove.
IV. Sight thro' a Glass, and Face to Face. (annext to a Sermon on Matt. v. 6. March 18, 1750. before the Lord's Supper.)
The Channel of Thy Word conveys
The sweet Instructions of thy Grace;
And sacred Emblems, thro' the Sense,
Strengthen our Faith with Evidence.
My infant Days were wholly Thine,
Devoted by an early Sign ;
And at Thy holy Table still
I bind myself to do Thy Will.
Once more I purpose to renew
The Tie, and promise to be true.
Once more beneath Thy Cross I'll sit
Weeping, and gladly dedicate
My Soul, my Days, my All to Thee.
Who groan'd away Thy Life for me.
The sweet Instructions of thy Grace;
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Strengthen our Faith with Evidence.
My infant Days were wholly Thine,
Devoted by an early Sign ;
And at Thy holy Table still
I bind myself to do Thy Will.
Once more I purpose to renew
The Tie, and promise to be true.
Once more beneath Thy Cross I'll sit
Weeping, and gladly dedicate
My Soul, my Days, my All to Thee.
Who groan'd away Thy Life for me.
Thro' various Types and Shadows dart
Thy Glories on my ravish'd Heart;
While far above created Sight,
Thou fit'st enthron'd on Hills of Light.
Thy Glories on my ravish'd Heart;
While far above created Sight,
Thou fit'st enthron'd on Hills of Light.
But say, shall Types and Figures still
The Glories of Thy Face conceal?
While these thick Shades Thy Beauty shroud,
It breaks but faintly thro' the Cloud.
I love Thine Image in a Glass;
But Oh! to see Thy naked Face!
Thyself I long, I pant to see;
I turn mine Eyes in Quest of Thee.
Where is that dear, incarnate God,
That once on Earth made His Abode?
That Jesus, who upon the Tree
Languish'd, and bled, and died for me?
Ah! will my Saviour now be shy,
Whose Love excited Him to die?
He found me when I sought him not;
And will he not be found, when sought?
The Glories of Thy Face conceal?
While these thick Shades Thy Beauty shroud,
It breaks but faintly thro' the Cloud.
I love Thine Image in a Glass;
But Oh! to see Thy naked Face!
Thyself I long, I pant to see;
I turn mine Eyes in Quest of Thee.
Where is that dear, incarnate God,
That once on Earth made His Abode?
That Jesus, who upon the Tree
Languish'd, and bled, and died for me?
Ah! will my Saviour now be shy,
Whose Love excited Him to die?
He found me when I sought him not;
And will he not be found, when sought?
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The Glories of Thy Face display,
Tho' Life should for the Vision pay.
O! let me die, opprest with Light,
Rather than live without the Sight.
Tho' Life should for the Vision pay.
O! let me die, opprest with Light,
Rather than live without the Sight.
V. The Law and Gospel. (annext to a Sermon on Gal. iii. 9, 10. Aug. 19, 1750.)
1.
With conscious Fear and humble Awe,I view the Terrors of the Law;
Condemn'd at that tremendous Bar,
I shrink, I tremble, and Despair.
2.
But hark! Salvation in my EarsSounds sweetly, and dispells my Fears:
Jesus appears, and by His Cross
Fulfils His Father's broken Laws.
3.
Jesus! a Saviour! dearest Name!By Him alone Salvation came;
Terror, Destruction and Despair,
Where e'er I look besides, appear.
4.
Adam, my Head and Father fell,And sunk his Offspring down to Hell:
And the dread Sword of Justice waits,
To guard me from the heav'nly Gates.
5.
Unnumber'd Crimes of dreadful NamesCall loud for everlasting Flames;
And all the Duties I have done
Can neither merit, nor attone.
6.
Yet weak and guilty as I am,I fix my trust on Jesus' Name.
Jesus, whose Righteousness alone
Can for the deepest Crimes attone.
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7.
On Him, my Soul, on Him rely;The Terms are fixt—Believe, or Die.
Thee let the Glorious Gospel draw,
Or perish by the fiery Law.
VI. CHRIST the Beloved and Friend of His Church. (annext to a Sermon on Cant. v. 16. Oct.—1748.)
1.
Let Others let their Passions roveRound all the Earth, from Shore to
Since Jesus is my Friend and Love,
My utmost Wish can grasp no more.
2.
His Glories have allur'd my Eye,And into Love transform'd my Heart;
To Him my tender'st Passions fly;
Jesus! nor shall they e'er depart.
3
Upon His Friendship I rely,Still of His tender Care secure;
My Wants are all before His Eye!
Nor can they overcome His Power.
4
His Presence fills unbounded Space;My heav'nly Friend is always nigh:
Full of Compassion, rich in Grace;
Touch'd with the tenderest Sympathy.
5
Faithful and constant is His Love,And my ungrateful Conduct hides:
Safe to the happy World above
The meanest of His Friends He guides.
6
Amid the Agonies of Death,And Terrors of the Final Doom,
He saves them from Almighty Wrath,
And leads the helpless Pilgrims home.
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7.
O may an everlasting FlameOf Love possess my gratful Mind!
And my last Breath adore His Name
Who condescends to be my Friend!
VII. The Spiritual Warfare. (annext to a Sermon on Rev. xxi. 7.)
1.
Arm thee in Panoply Divine,My Soul, and fir'd with Courage rise;
A Thousand Enemies combine
T' obstruct thy Progress to the Skies.
2.
Infernal Darts perpetual Fly,And scatter various Deaths around;
Around thee Thousands daily die,
And none escape without a Wound.
3.
The World presents her tempting Charms,And wears the Aspect of a Friend,
Yet ah! She carries deadly Arms,
And all her Smiles in Ruin end.
4.
But Oh! the Flesh! that latent Foe!That treach'rous En'my in my Breast!
'Tis hence proceeds my Overthrow,
And hence I'm conquer'd by the rest.
5.
Thro' Troops of potent Enemies,Thro' hostile Snares, and Fields of Blood,
If I expect the Glorious Prize,
I must pursue my dangerous Road.
6.
But ah! how can a feeble WormObtain so hard a Victory?
Alas! I perish in the Storm,
And helpless fall, and bleed, and die.
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7.
The glorious Prize stands full in View,But Deaths and Dangers stop my Way:
Thou glorious Prize! Adieu, adieu!
Here, Cruel Foes! Come, seize your Prey.
8.
But hark! an animating VoiceMajestic breaks from th' upper Sky:
“Courage, frail Worm! Live and rejoice,
“I have procur'd the Victory.
9.
“Suspended on th' accursed Tree,“I crush'd the Might of all thy Foes:
“Dying, I spoil'd their Tyranny,
“And triumph'd o'er them when I rose.
10.
“This Arm that props the Universe,“And holds up Nature's tott'ring Frame,
“Can all surrounding Harms disperse,
“And safe protect the feeblest Name.
11.
“The Captain of Salvation deigns“To lead the Van, and guard thy Way:
“And since thy conquering Leader reigns,
“Th' infernal Pow'rs shall miss their Prey.
12.
“In Me confide; from Me derive“Courage and Strength to keep the Field:
“In Crowds of Death then Thou shalt live,
“And all thy stubborn Foes shall yield.
13.
“The Spirit's Sword victorious wield,“And steel thy Breast with Righteousness;
“Let Faith be thy Triumphant Shield;
“Thy Helmet, Hope of heav'nly Bliss.
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14.
“See in my Hands the glorious Prize;“This Crown the Conquerer shall wear:
“Rise then with dauntless Courage rise,
“And bid adeiu to every Fear.
15.
Tho' sharp the Combat, 'tis but short;Vict'ry with active Wing draws nigh:
“And my brave Soldiers, all unhurt,
“Ere long shall triumph in the Sky.”
16.
Blest Jesus! fir'd with martial ZealI arm, and rush into the Fight;
And thro' my Weakness still I feel,
I am Almighty in Thy Might.
17.
Thy gracious Words my Heart inspireWith gen'rous Zeal for noble Deeds;
Let Hell and all her Hosts appear,
My Soul, undaunted, now proceeds.
18.
Satan, affrighted at thy Frown,Retreats, despairing of his Prey;
And all the Flatt'ries Earth has shewn,
In vain their treach'rous Charms display.
19.
The Flesh, subdu'd by Grace Divine,No more shall triumph o'er the Man.
Now, Glorious Prize! I call thee mine,
Tho' Earth and Hell do all they can.
VIII. A guilty Conscience. (annext to a Sermon on 1 John iii. 20. Nov. 25. 1750.)
1.
Ah! who can bear this twinging Smart,That tortures and corrodes my Heart!
These guilty Horrors, that molest
This self-condemn'd, self-tort'ring Breast!
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2.
Tremendous Prospects strike mine Eye,Through vast, unknown Futurity:
Grim Death a thousand Terrors wears,
And ready to arrest appears.
3.
I view with a distracted Stare,The dread eternal Regions near;
Tortures, and Racks, and quenchless Fire,
And Shrieks, and Groans, and Torments dire!
4.
The wrathful Heav'ns vindictive frown,And Thunders murmur to be down,
To blast a Worm that durst provoke
Omnipotence to give the Stroke.
5.
Surmises, Fears and JealousiesIn this self-conscious Bosom rise;
And prest with Guilt my Spirits sink,
When I allow myself to think.
6.
But ah! this giddy rambling Soul,Ere a few fleeting Moments roll,
Some vain enchanting Toy admits,
And her unhappy Case forgets.
7.
Amusements or th' intrusive CareOf this vain World, my Thoughts ensnare:
My solemn Resolutions fly,
All lost in thoughtless Levity.
8.
But ah! the Agony returns;Again my Spirit pines and mourns;
Again dire-boding Fears surround
My shudd'ring Soul, and deeply wound.
9.
A frightful Thought will sudden dart,And, unexpected, pierce the Heart.
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But Conscience restless still pursues.
10.
A cheerful Aspect I assume,But all within is dismal Gloom:
Or if I lose the inward Pain
A Moment, ah! it gnaws again.
11.
I leave this gloomy Solitude,And mingle with th' unthinking Crowd;
There trifle, talk, and laugh awhile;
But ah! the Anguish will recoil.
12.
In Crowds and Noise the guilty MindSome anxious Intervals will find:
Guilt whispers Terror in the Breast,
And interrupts the transient Rest.
13.
Oh! Misery 'til now unknown!I am a Self-Tormenter grown:
Nor can I my Accuser shun,
Unless I from myself could run.
14.
Oh Sin! is this the dire RewardFor all thy wretched Slaves prepar'd!
Are these, alass! are these the Fruits
Of all my pleasing vain Pursuits!
15.
Ah! had I kept the narrow Road,Where the blest Few enjoy their God,
Then all serene, unmov'd with Guilt,
These Horrors I had never felt.
16.
Oh! can a guilty Wretch obtainA Balm to ease this twinging Pain?
Or must he always feel the Road
Of Conscience, and an angry God?
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17.
Jesus! if any Help remains,It flows from Thy dear bleeding Veins:
Nothing can please an angry God,
Or angry Conscience, but Thy Blood.
18.
Oh! dare I yet with wishful Eyes,Look for Salvation from the Skies?
Oh! will that Blood my Sins have spilt,
Relieve my Mind, and wash my Guilt?
19.
All gracious Saviour! Oh! remitA Rebel prostrate at Thy Feet:
He has no other Place to fly;
If die he must, here let him die!
20.
Say, shall that Hand that patient boreTo be by Nails and Torments tore,—
Oh! wilt Thou now, vindictive stretch
That Hand to crush an humble Wretch!
21.
No! Blessed Jesus! rather slayThese Sins that led my Soul astray:
O make my Heart and Conscience clean,
And give me Heav'n and Peace within!
I do not mean that presumptuous Libertines ought to ease their Consciences by an imaginary Dependance on Christ: But that humble conscious Penitents should place their only Trust in His Righteousness, both to relieve them from the Horrors of Guilt, and deliver them from their former Slavery to Sin.
IX. Love to God for His Holiness. (annext to a Sermon on 1 John iv. 16. Dec. 2, 1750.)
1.
Come, Holy Spirit! Come, enflameOur lukewarm Hearts with sacred Fire:
May all our Passions, to Thy Name,
In Transports most refin'd, aspire.
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2.
May Love sublime our Hearts possess,From every selfish Mixture free,
Fir'd with the Charms of Holiness,
The Beauty of Divinity.
3.
We see the Beauty of Thy Grace,That saves rebellious Worms from Hell:
But ah! the Charms of Holiness
We dimly see, and faintly feel.
4.
Selfish and mercenary ViewsAre with our purest Passions mixt:
A nobler Passion, Oh! infuse,
On Holiness supremely fixt.
5.
Thus in the glorious Worlds on high,Where Holiness is most ador'd,
Th' Angelic Choirs incessant cry,
“Thrice HOLY, HOLY, HOLY LORD!”
6.
Refine our Hearts, inspire our Tongue,And We in humble Notes below
Will imitate the heav'nly Song,
And eccho “HOLY, HOLY,” too.
X. Brotherly Love. (annext to a Sermon on 1 John iii. 14. Dec. 9, 1750.)
1.
Descend, Thou mild, pacific Dove!Thine Image on our Hearts impress;
Transform our Passions all to Love,
And sooth our Discords into Peace.
2.
In Arms of warm Benevolence,Teach us t' embrace all Human Kind;
And like the Sun, around dispense
The Wishes of a gen'rous Mind.
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3.
We are but Parts of one great Whole,And may our Hearts, enlarg'd, exult
To scatter Bliss from Pole to Pole,
And still the Gen'ral Good consult!
4.
But may the beauteous Sons of Grace,Attract a more peculiar Love;
And the fair Charms of Holiness
A more exalted Passion move.
5.
Where e'er our Father's Image shines,And his dear Lineaments appear,
May we approve the heav'nly Lines,
And our Affections center there.
6.
May sympathetic Sorrows fillOur Hearts, to view another's Grief;
And may our Hands be open still
To bless the Needy with Relief.
7.
May we our Brother's Fault conceal,And mild and inoffensive live;
And may our Bosoms ever feel
That God-like Pleasure, to forgive.
8.
O gentle Love! Celestial Guest!Visit a jarring World again;
Come dwell forever in our Breast,
And there triumphant ever reign.
9.
Then while the noisy Sons of StrifeAre with tumultous Passions whirl'd,
We shall enjoy a peaceful Life,
Amid a murm'ring, jangling World.
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XI. The doubting Christian. (annext to a Sermon adapted for Self-Examination, on 1 John iii. 7, 8. December 16, 1750.)
1.
Happy the Man whose peaceful BreastA smiling Conscience charms to rest;
Whose pious Heart and Life express
The living Characters of Grace!
2.
He humbly claims the Promises,And calls their richest Blessings his:
In Peace he lives, and dies in Peace,
And peaceful soars to heav'nly Bliss.
3.
Thrice happy he! But ah! I feelThe Twinges of Suspicions still;
Dark boding Fears and wild Surmise,
And Jealousies perpetual rise.
4.
Perplext with various Characters,My Mind is tost 'twixt Hopes and Fears:
Here some kind Tokens rise, but there
The dismal Counter-Tokens glare.
5.
I humbly hope, in some bright Hour,My State is safe, my Heav'n secure:
But soon the shining Moment flies,
And soon tremendous Glooms arise.
6.
Thus in a dubious Twilight lost,With various Waves, alternate, tost,
O'er Life's tempestuous Sea I roam,
Uncertain where shall be my Home:
7.
Uncertain where my Soul must go,To Fields of Joy, or Lakes of Woe:
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But cover'd with Uncertainties.
8.
I view the Ocean vast and wide,Where Time unites its ebbing Tide;
Now, hoping, would th' Adventure make,
Now trembling, shudd'ring startle back.
9.
Confounded, now back shrinks my Soul,To see the fiery Billows roll:
Now Rivers of immense Delight
Glide copious by, and tempt her Flight.
10.
O! if these Doubts were chas'd away,How calmly then, without Dismay,
I'd launch into the boundless Deep,
And fearless take the final Leap!
11.
But what if in some dark Abode,Banish'd forever from my God,
My Soul should pine in endless Pain!—
Ah me! This Fear returns again.
12.
Say, my dear God, and ease my Heart,O wilt Thou frown, and say Depart!
Depart!—ah! where, Lord! shall I flee?
I have no other Bliss but Thee.
13.
Thou seest my Passions to Thy NameKindle, tho' with a feeble Flame
And shall a Spark of heav'nly Love
From its own native Regions move?
14.
O! shall the meanest of Thy Friends,Forever dwell with hateful Fiends?
No! let me claim the humblest Place
In the bright Mansions of Thy Grace.
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XII. CHRIST's Agony in the Garden. Luke xxii. 41, 44.
See there, o'erwhelm'd with Agonies,
Prostrate, forlorn, my Jesus lies!
Panting, moaning, groaning there,
On the cold Ground, in midnight Air:
No Friend, no kind Assistant near;
No sympathizing Comforter;
But all alone, unheard, unknown,
To the dark Night He makes His Moan.
Malignant Spirits glare around,
And with their fiery Arrows wound:
Trying to add, with spiteful Pow'r,
New Horrors to the dismal Hour;
And in his tortur'd Soul to rear
The gloomy Standard of Despair.
The frowning Heav'ns tremendous low'r,
And murm'ring Thunders dreadful roar;
Then shot by sudden Vengeance dart,
And tear and ravage thro' His Heart.
Prostrate, forlorn, my Jesus lies!
Panting, moaning, groaning there,
On the cold Ground, in midnight Air:
No Friend, no kind Assistant near;
No sympathizing Comforter;
But all alone, unheard, unknown,
To the dark Night He makes His Moan.
Malignant Spirits glare around,
And with their fiery Arrows wound:
Trying to add, with spiteful Pow'r,
New Horrors to the dismal Hour;
And in his tortur'd Soul to rear
The gloomy Standard of Despair.
The frowning Heav'ns tremendous low'r,
And murm'ring Thunders dreadful roar;
Then shot by sudden Vengeance dart,
And tear and ravage thro' His Heart.
To his own Heav'ns He lifts his Eyes.
Father, remove this Cup, he cries,
This deadly Cup of bitter Dregs,
Mingled with Wrath and Pains and Plagues;
Dear Father, O! remove this Cup;
Or some kind Cordial in it drop:
Yet if thy Will decree it just,
That drink it I, or Sinners must,
Rather than they should taste the Gall,
See, Father; here I drink it all:
Thy Will it is I should atone,
And, Father! let Thy Will be done!
Father, remove this Cup, he cries,
This deadly Cup of bitter Dregs,
Mingled with Wrath and Pains and Plagues;
Dear Father, O! remove this Cup;
Or some kind Cordial in it drop:
Yet if thy Will decree it just,
That drink it I, or Sinners must,
Rather than they should taste the Gall,
See, Father; here I drink it all:
Thy Will it is I should atone,
And, Father! let Thy Will be done!
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The Father hides his wonted Smiles,
And all his Soul with Horror fills,
Transferring on his darling Son
The heavy Crimes by Mortals done.
And all his Soul with Horror fills,
Transferring on his darling Son
The heavy Crimes by Mortals done.
See! prest beneath the dismal Load,
He sinks, he falls, altho' a God!
A mortal Sweat bedews His Limbs,
And down his sacred Body streams;
See! how it bursts thro' every Pore,
Mingled with Lumps of clotted Gore!
His hollow Groans with mournful Sound,
Eccho thro' all the Garden round.
He sinks, he falls, altho' a God!
A mortal Sweat bedews His Limbs,
And down his sacred Body streams;
See! how it bursts thro' every Pore,
Mingled with Lumps of clotted Gore!
His hollow Groans with mournful Sound,
Eccho thro' all the Garden round.
While thus I view, with gushing Eyes,
My dear Redeemer agonize,
With crushing Sorrows overborn,
Methinks I see him wishful turn
His Face, where Love and Anguish mix,
And full on me His Aspect fix;
And from His Tongue methinks I hear,
These moving Accents strike my Ear.
My dear Redeemer agonize,
With crushing Sorrows overborn,
Methinks I see him wishful turn
His Face, where Love and Anguish mix,
And full on me His Aspect fix;
And from His Tongue methinks I hear,
These moving Accents strike my Ear.
“See, Sinner! see the cruel Load
“With which thy Sins oppress thy God!
“Thy Sins extort these hollow Groans;
“For thee, for thee thy Jesus moans!
“Thee so ungrateful, so unkind!
“So prone to cast Me from thy Mind!
“And can thy stubborn Heart endure
“To grieve, forget and slight Me more!
“Oh! canst thou hear these Groans and Cries,
“And thy kind Saviour still despise!
“Come, Sinner, view these Clots of Gore,
“And say, Wilt thou forget me more!
“Say, Canst thou view this mournful Scene,
And strait return to Sin again!
“What! Leave thy Saviour bleeding here,
“And go”—
“With which thy Sins oppress thy God!
“Thy Sins extort these hollow Groans;
“For thee, for thee thy Jesus moans!
“Thee so ungrateful, so unkind!
“So prone to cast Me from thy Mind!
“And can thy stubborn Heart endure
“To grieve, forget and slight Me more!
“Oh! canst thou hear these Groans and Cries,
“And thy kind Saviour still despise!
“Come, Sinner, view these Clots of Gore,
“And say, Wilt thou forget me more!
“Say, Canst thou view this mournful Scene,
And strait return to Sin again!
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“And go”—
—Forbear! my Lord, forbear!
Thy Words o'ercome me! Jesus, stay!
O here I faint and die away.
It kills me, Lord! but to suppose
That ever I should treat Thee thus!
No! rather stop my guilty Breath!
To treat Thee thus is worse than Death.
If I such Love as this forget,
Then let my Heart forget to beat:
If e'er I slight Thine Agony,
In that curs'd Moment let me die;
Or if I cease to love Thy Name,
Relapse to nothing whence I came:
If Sin be any more my Joy,
Me, with my own Consent, destroy.
Thy Words o'ercome me! Jesus, stay!
O here I faint and die away.
It kills me, Lord! but to suppose
That ever I should treat Thee thus!
No! rather stop my guilty Breath!
To treat Thee thus is worse than Death.
If I such Love as this forget,
Then let my Heart forget to beat:
If e'er I slight Thine Agony,
In that curs'd Moment let me die;
Or if I cease to love Thy Name,
Relapse to nothing whence I came:
If Sin be any more my Joy,
Me, with my own Consent, destroy.
Sin!—When I hear the hated Name,
With keen Revenge my Passions flame.
Ah me! that e'er my foolish Breast
Indulg'd the Monster as a Guest!
Caress'd him in my dearest Part!
Ah, this Reflection tears my Heart!
With keen Revenge my Passions flame.
Ah me! that e'er my foolish Breast
Indulg'd the Monster as a Guest!
Caress'd him in my dearest Part!
Ah, this Reflection tears my Heart!
What, blessed Lord! what shall I do?
I own I have indulg'd Thy Foe;
With my own Life the Monster fed,
That made Thee groan, and sweat, and bleed,
O could my Actions be undone!
O were the Race of Life to run!
Ye misimproven Hours! return,
Which now with flowing Tears I mourn.
Vain, fruitless Wish! the restless Wheel
Of Time moves onward, onward still;
Nor can Intreaties bring it back
To roll again its former Track.
I own I have indulg'd Thy Foe;
With my own Life the Monster fed,
That made Thee groan, and sweat, and bleed,
O could my Actions be undone!
O were the Race of Life to run!
Ye misimproven Hours! return,
Which now with flowing Tears I mourn.
Vain, fruitless Wish! the restless Wheel
Of Time moves onward, onward still;
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To roll again its former Track.
Blest Jesus! take each future Hour;
'Tis all the Amends within my Pow'r:
O may Thy Praise in grateful Song,
Forever echo from my Tongue!
O may Thy Love enflame my Soul,
While everlasting Ages roll!
'Tis all the Amends within my Pow'r:
O may Thy Praise in grateful Song,
Forever echo from my Tongue!
O may Thy Love enflame my Soul,
While everlasting Ages roll!
XIII. Spiritual Inactivity lamented.
1.
Jesus! What eager Zeal inspir'dThy Heart to die for me!
O that my languid Breast were fir'd
With equal Flame to Thee!
2.
But how has Sin benumb'd my Soul!My Heart how hard and dead!
My softest Passions, ah how dull!
Heavy and cold as Lead.
3.
Mean Time inferior Toys can charm,And all my Passions move:
A Friend or Relative can warm,
And melt my Heart to Love.
4.
My Thoughts refuse to soar to Thee,But full of Vigour spring
To chase some gilded Vanity,
Some useless trifling Thing.
5.
Blest Jesus! I would rather loseMy thinking Faculty,
Than waste my Thoughts on Trifles thus,
And never think of Thee.
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6.
If my soft Passions be not Thine,My Passions are a Pain;
Let me the Power of Love resign,
Rather than love in vain.
7.
Lord, 'tis a Curse to live and breathe,Unless I live to Thee;
If I must lie thus stupid, Death
Is better than to Be.
8.
Thy quick'ning Energy exert,Blest Jesus! and bestow
A living Soul, a tender Heart
To serve my God below.
XIV On a sudden Death. (annext to a funeral Sermont on Eccles. ix. 12. Jan. 5. 1750–1.)
1.
How thin the separating Wall'Twixt Time and vast Eternity!
How sudden thoughtless Mortals fall
Into that dark unbounded Sea!
2.
The Soul, this Moment vain and gay,Eager pursues the Trifles here,
The next, reluctant torn away,
In a dark Somewhere to appear.
3.
Death still pursues us every-where,And unsuspected haunts our Steps;
And while we think no Danger near,
Sudden upon his Prey he leaps.
4.
The Monster in close Ambush lurks,And steals upon us unawares:
Still undermining ceaseless works;
Still near, yet distant still appears.
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5.
My sudden Fate perhaps may sealThe melancholy Truth I write;
And e'er I farther move my Quill,
The vital Pulse may cease to beat.
6.
How strange, how solemn the Surprize!Hurried at once to Worlds unknown!
Snatch'd from this Scene of Vanities,
And plac'd before th' Eternal Throne!
7.
The lower Skies, the Earth and MenAll in a Moment out of Sight!
While Wonders of the World unseen
In endless Prospects rush to Light!
8.
Great God! and do I heedless stepOn this tremendous Precipice,
Perhaps to take the final Leap,
Unwarn'd, ere this short Moment flies!
9.
And does Eternity depend,And all its infinite Affairs,
On every fleeting Hour I spend,
And waste upon inferior Cares!
10.
Alarming Thought! My Soul, awake!Prepare, prepare to meet thy God!
These mortal Regions soon forsake,
And often view thy last Abode.
11.
Almighty Grace! in youthful PrimeTeach me t'improve my fleeting Time;
That whensoe'er the Summons come,
I may receive a joyful Doom.
12.
Then if perhaps a sudden DeathShould unexpected stop my Breath,
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Shall find herself in upper Skies.
13.
Thrice happy Death! to drop the ChainOf Life, without a ling'ring Pain!
To spring at once to endless Life!
Without a tedious dying Strife!
XV. The Conflagration. (annext to a Sermon on 2 Pet. iii. 11. Jan. 27, 1750–1.)
1.
Now Harmony adjusts the World,And charming Order round me smiles:
Ere long Confusion shall be hurl'd,
And break and shatter Nature's Wheels.
2.
The Day approaches, (dreadful Day!)When Chaos shall resume his Place?
This mighty Frame of Things decay,
And vanish in the general Blaze.
3.
Ye azure Arches, lost in Smoke,Shall shrink, affrighted, to a Scroll:
The Pillars of high Heaven be broke,
While Lightnings glare from Pole to Pole.
4.
Thou too, accurst terrestial Ball,That saw the Son of God expire;
Thou and thy Works shall perish all,
And sink in universal Fire.
5.
Horrendous Sight! A World in Flames!Thunders loud rumbling thro' the Air!
Dire Lightnings flushing fiery Streams,
And glaring red and vengeful there!
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6.
Mountains wide-bursting! liquid FireIn glowing Torrents rushing down!
Rocks, Stones, fierce Min'rals, Sulphur dire
Melting, the Plains and Vallies drown!
7.
Old Ocean of its Moisture dry'd,Receives the fierce descending Tide:
Thither dissolving Worlds retire,
And form a boundless Lake of Fire.
8.
With loud Ætnean Thunders roarsThe Globe, with Earthquakes tost and torn:
Palaces, Cities, Castles, Tow'rs,
Towns, Wood and Plains united burn.
9.
And where! O where shall Sinners thenFlee from the universal Wreck!
Aghast they view the burning Main,
And plunge into the sulph'rous Lake.
10.
There overwhelm'd, the rebel WormsLie ever, ever, ever lost!
Beaten with everlasting Storms,
On fiery Eddies whirl'd and tost.
11.
But ye dear Saints, ye pious Few,Jesus shall screen your feeble Souls:
Safe from on high your Eyes shall view
The burning Earth and melting Poles.
12.
Jesus shall live when Nature dies;And while he lives, you must be blest:
Behold he forms new Earth and Skies,
Where you eternal Years shall rest.
13.
Let Earth and Skies, convuls'd and torn,To common Desolation fall;
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God is your Bliss, your Heav'n, your All.
There is no Theme, perhaps, in the Compass of Nature, that so far exceeds human Language and Imagination, as the Conflagration. The Terrors of Ætna and Vesuvius, in their most outragious Eruptions, are but low and trifling Emblems of a burning World. But perhaps nothing can give us a more lively and striking Prospect of that tremendous Scene, 'til we ourselves are Spectators of it, than the elegant Dr. Burnet's Description, in his sacred Theory of the Earth. Book III. Ch. 12. from whence I have borrowed most of these Thoughts.
XVI. Separation from GOD the most intolerable Punishment. (annext to a Sermon on Gen. iv. 13, 14. Jan. 13, 1750–1.)
Fountain of Good! 'twas thy creating Breath
Inspired the boundless Wish, th' immense Desire,
That gasps for perfect Bliss. The panting Soul,
That still unsatisfy'd, still restless, breaks
Through Nature's Bonds, with dark implicit Aim
Unconscious points to Thee, the unbounded Source
Of all Perfection. So young Ravens cry,
And gape to catch the Bounty from Thy Hand,
By Instinct taught, unconscious what they ask,
And whence the Blessing comes. So the parch'd Earth,
When brazen Skies deny the timely Rain,
With silent Importunity implores,
Unknowing, the soft Show'r: her gaping Chinks
Her with'ring Verdure, and dejected Flow'rs
Mourning present the silent Pray'r to Thee.
Inspired the boundless Wish, th' immense Desire,
That gasps for perfect Bliss. The panting Soul,
That still unsatisfy'd, still restless, breaks
Through Nature's Bonds, with dark implicit Aim
Unconscious points to Thee, the unbounded Source
Of all Perfection. So young Ravens cry,
And gape to catch the Bounty from Thy Hand,
By Instinct taught, unconscious what they ask,
And whence the Blessing comes. So the parch'd Earth,
When brazen Skies deny the timely Rain,
With silent Importunity implores,
Unknowing, the soft Show'r: her gaping Chinks
Her with'ring Verdure, and dejected Flow'rs
Mourning present the silent Pray'r to Thee.
These innate Wishes, that impatient break
Through all the Limits of created Joys,
Direct their Flight to Thee: th' Extravagance
Of these immense Desires, proclaim aloud
My Soul can ne'er be happy but in Thee.
In Thee alone her Faculties find Room,
In Thee alone expatiate unconfin'd.
Through all the Affluence that Earth can yield,
Through all the Canopy of Heav'n contains,
Through all the Ranks of heav'nly Forms, she breaks
In Quest of Thee. In Quest of Thee she roves
In all th' Anxieties of Discontent,
In all the distant Prospects Hope can shew,
And all the wild Excursions of Desire.
For Thee she heaves the Sigh; for Thee dilates
The boundless Wish; Thee under some Disguise,
Tho' oft deluded with fallacious Views,
Restless pursues; and short of Thee despairs
To find true Bliss, proportion'd to her Wish.
Through all the Limits of created Joys,
Direct their Flight to Thee: th' Extravagance
Of these immense Desires, proclaim aloud
My Soul can ne'er be happy but in Thee.
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In Thee alone expatiate unconfin'd.
Through all the Affluence that Earth can yield,
Through all the Canopy of Heav'n contains,
Through all the Ranks of heav'nly Forms, she breaks
In Quest of Thee. In Quest of Thee she roves
In all th' Anxieties of Discontent,
In all the distant Prospects Hope can shew,
And all the wild Excursions of Desire.
For Thee she heaves the Sigh; for Thee dilates
The boundless Wish; Thee under some Disguise,
Tho' oft deluded with fallacious Views,
Restless pursues; and short of Thee despairs
To find true Bliss, proportion'd to her Wish.
Let all the richest Blessings Nature yields
Diffuse themselves around me, with Disdain
My Soul would all th' insip'd Trifles spurn:
Through all the gay Temptations still look out
For some superior Bliss; look out to Thee,
My only Happiness, with wishful Eyes,
And find my Heav'n in Thy propitious Smiles.
Diffuse themselves around me, with Disdain
My Soul would all th' insip'd Trifles spurn:
Through all the gay Temptations still look out
For some superior Bliss; look out to Thee,
My only Happiness, with wishful Eyes,
And find my Heav'n in Thy propitious Smiles.
O! may I hope, when the long Drudgery
Of Life is past, to rise and soar to Thee?
There all my boundless Cravings satisfy,
And fill my vast Capacities of Bliss?
Of Life is past, to rise and soar to Thee?
There all my boundless Cravings satisfy,
And fill my vast Capacities of Bliss?
But gloomy Guilt obscures the glimm'ring Hope;
Whispers a thousand Horrors, and forebodes
Eternal Separation from Thy Face,
In the waste Realms where Desolation frowns,
Unconscious of Thy Smiles. Tremendous Thought!
Oh! Horrors! Horrors!—An immortal Soul,
With ever-gnawing and immense Desires,
Torn off from all the Pleasures Sense can yield,
Without a God! Without a Drop of Bliss
To quench her raging Thirst! Curs'd from the Earth,
A restless Fugitive thro' the dark Voids
Of boundless Space, and the thick Glooms of Hell!
Haunted with horrid Furies! Rack'd and torn
With guilty, dire Reflections! Not an Eye
To pity! Pining, panting, gasping still
For Bliss in vain, with hungry wild Desires!—
I sink beneath the Prospect! Horrors chill
The vital Stream, and palpipate around
My agonizing Heart!—My Maker God!
My Father! Saviour! every dearest Name!
Oh! wilt Thou doom me to a long Exile
From thy propitious Face, my only Bliss!
See! Lord, a Supplicant before Thy Throne
Importunate I bow; for Grace I cry!
For Grace to fit my Spirit to enjoy
Thee as my final Portion and my All.
Whispers a thousand Horrors, and forebodes
Eternal Separation from Thy Face,
In the waste Realms where Desolation frowns,
Unconscious of Thy Smiles. Tremendous Thought!
Oh! Horrors! Horrors!—An immortal Soul,
With ever-gnawing and immense Desires,
Torn off from all the Pleasures Sense can yield,
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To quench her raging Thirst! Curs'd from the Earth,
A restless Fugitive thro' the dark Voids
Of boundless Space, and the thick Glooms of Hell!
Haunted with horrid Furies! Rack'd and torn
With guilty, dire Reflections! Not an Eye
To pity! Pining, panting, gasping still
For Bliss in vain, with hungry wild Desires!—
I sink beneath the Prospect! Horrors chill
The vital Stream, and palpipate around
My agonizing Heart!—My Maker God!
My Father! Saviour! every dearest Name!
Oh! wilt Thou doom me to a long Exile
From thy propitious Face, my only Bliss!
See! Lord, a Supplicant before Thy Throne
Importunate I bow; for Grace I cry!
For Grace to fit my Spirit to enjoy
Thee as my final Portion and my All.
| Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761 | |