 | Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761 |  |
[No. IX. Why should I, in the Rage of wild Despair]
Why should I, in the Rage of wild Despair
And Agony, my Flesh thus gnaw and tear?
Why sink desponding under hopeless Grief,
And in my trembling Hand repose my doubtful Life?
And Agony, my Flesh thus gnaw and tear?
Why sink desponding under hopeless Grief,
And in my trembling Hand repose my doubtful Life?
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O say, my God, may not a Sinner dare
Confide in Thee, and sooth his wild Despair?
O yes! Tho' Thou shouldst crush me in the Dust
Like some vile Poison, still in Thee I'll trust,
In Thee I'll trust, hope in Thy gracious Word,
Tho' Thou should'st slay me with Thy vengeful Sword.
Confide in Thee, and sooth his wild Despair?
O yes! Tho' Thou shouldst crush me in the Dust
Like some vile Poison, still in Thee I'll trust,
In Thee I'll trust, hope in Thy gracious Word,
Tho' Thou should'st slay me with Thy vengeful Sword.
But oh! so mean a Worm's beneath Thy Wrath;
Unworthy by Thy Hands to suffer Death;
Beneath a Look of Thy avenging Eye,
Of Thy immense, exalted Majesty.
Unworthy by Thy Hands to suffer Death;
Beneath a Look of Thy avenging Eye,
Of Thy immense, exalted Majesty.
Ah! will Thy God-like Vengeance condescend
A fleeting Leaf, the Sport of Winds, to rend?
Or will the Majesty of Justice claim
A wretched Victim of so mean a Name;
And of dry Stubble form a feeble Flame?
A fleeting Leaf, the Sport of Winds, to rend?
Or will the Majesty of Justice claim
A wretched Victim of so mean a Name;
And of dry Stubble form a feeble Flame?
| Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761 | |