 | Divine poems |  |
6
The SOUL's Lethargy, Or, No Sense of SIN.
1
My Soul Sin-smitten feels no Blow! Struck downShe's in a Swoun!
Thus wrong'd, She can't Complain!
She lies Astonied, can't Call on
The GOD of Her Salvation,
To help her up again.
2
I'm Sick because I have no Pain: My Sore,That's now Skinn'd ore,
Will Putrify, I fear:
My Soul hath lost Her Vital Heat,
True Zeal: Her Pulse gives ore to Beat,
As if her Death were near:
3
Mine Eyes are ope to Weep, not See: My MindUntranc'd I find,
Pierc'd with a Fiery Dart!
Ah! now I am Awak't again,
9
Fresh Sorrow gripes my Heart.
4
Lo! Gracious JESU! lo! How Sick am I!How like to Die!
Maim'd by the Host of Hell!
Let but the Prince of Darkness Flye
Before the Lustre of Thine Eye;
I'le View Thee, and be well.
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