The Collected Verse | ||
162
A WORD TO NEW ENGLAND
Oh New England, thou canst not boast;Thy former glory thou hast lost.
When Hooker, Winthrop, Cotton died,
And many precious ones beside,
163
And still doth languish more away.
Love, truth, goodness, mercy and grace—
Wealth and the world have took their place.
164
Fraud, drunkenness, whoredom and pride.
The great oppressors slay the poor,
But whimsy errors they kill more.
Yet some thou hast which mourn and weep,
And their garments unspotted keep;
Who seek God's honor to maintain,
That true religion may remain.
These do invite, and sweetly call,
Each to other, and say to all;
165
That we may prevent his sharp rod.
Yet time thou hast; improve it well,
That God's presence may with ye dwell.
The Collected Verse | ||