 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
STANZAS WRITTEN IN PROSPECT OF DEATH
I
Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene?Have I so found it full of pleasing charms?
Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between;
Some gleams of sunshine mid renewing storms.
230
Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode?
For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms:
I tremble to approach an angry God,
And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod.
II
Fain would I say: ‘Forgive my foul offence,’Fain promise never more to disobey.
But should my Author health again dispense,
Again I might desert fair virtue's way;
Again in folly's path might go astray;
Again exalt the brute and sink the man:
Then how should I for heavenly mercy pray,
Who act so counter heavenly mercy's plan?
Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation ran?
III
O Thou great Governor of all below!—If I may dare a lifted eye to Thee,—
Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow,
Or still the tumult of the raging sea:
With that controlling pow'r assist ev'n me
Those headlong furious passions to confine,
For all unfit I feel my pow'rs to be
To rule their torrent in th'allowèd line:
O, aid me with Thy help, Omnipotence Divine!
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |