 | Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761 |  |
183
The one Thing needful generally neglected.
Luke x. 42. Long Metre.
I
O, Was my Heart but form'd for Woe,What Streams of pitying Tears should flow,
To see the thoughtless Sons of Men
Labour, and toil, and live in vain!
II
One Thing is needful, one alone;If this be ours, all is our own:
'Tis needful now, 'twill needful be
In Death, and thro' Eternity.
III
Without it we are all undone,Tho' we could call the World our own:
Not all the Joys of Time and Sense
Can countervail the Loss immense.
IV
Yet, (O the Horrors of the Thought!)The one Thing needful is forgot;
Forgot, while Trifles of an Hour
Our Love, and Hope, and Zeal devour.
184
V
Hurry, and Toil, and anxious Care,The busy Life of Mortals share,
Till Death compels them to bemoan
Their Folly, when their Sands are run.
VI
The Bliss of Heav'n they disregard,Hell's flaming Terrors rage unfear'd;
Eternity a Trifle seems;
Immense Realities are Dreams.
VII
O Sinners! will you now return?Or must I still your Madness mourn?
O will you now at length be wise,
And strive to gain the only Prize?
VIII
Great God! that powerful Grace of thine,Which rous'd a Soul so dead as mine,
Can rouse these thoughtless Sinners too
The one Thing needful to pursue.
| Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761 | |