 | Poems (1717) |  |
143
ON THE DAY of JUDGMENT.
I
The Day of Wrath, that Dreadful Day,Shall the whole World in Ashes lay,
As David and the Sibyls say.
II
What Horror will invade the Mind,When the strict Judge, who would be kind,
Shall have few Venial Faults to find?
III
The last loud Trumpet's wond'rous Sound,Shall through the rending Tombs rebound,
And wake the Nations under Ground.
144
IV
Nature and Death shall, with Surprize,Behold the pale Offender rise,
And view the Judge with conscious Eyes.
V
Then shall, with Universal Dread,The sacred Mystick Book be read,
To try the Living, and the Dead.
VI
The Judge ascends his Awful Throne,He makes each secret Sin be known,
And all with Shame confess their own.
VII
O then! What Interest shall I make,To save my last important Stake,
When the most Just have cause to quake.
145
VIII
Thou mighty, formidable King,Thou Mercy's unexhausted Spring,
Some comfortable Pity bring!
IX
Forget not what my Ransom cost,Nor let my Dear-bought Soul be lost,
In Storms of guilty Terror tost.
X
Thou who for me didst feel such Pain,Whose precious Blood the Cross did stain,
Let not those Agonies be vain.
XI
Thou whom avenging Pow'rs obey,Cancel my Debt (too great to pay)
Before the sad Accounting Day.
146
XII
Surrounded with Amazing Fears,Whose Load my Soul with Anguish bears,
I sigh, I weep: Accept my Tears.
XIII
Thou who wer't mov'd with Mary's Grief,And, by absolving of the Thief,
Hast giv'n me Hope, now give Relief.
XIV
Reject not my unworthy Pray'r,Preserve me from that dang'rous Snare
Which Death and Gaping Hell prepare.
XV
Give my exalted Soul a Place,Among thy chosen Right-Hand Race;
The Sons of God, and Heirs of Grace.
147
XVI
From that Insatiable Abyss,Where Flames devour, and Serpents hiss,
Promote me to thy Seat of Bliss.
XVII
Prostrate my Contrite Heart I rend,My God, my Father, and my Friend;
Do not forsake me in my End.
XVIII
Well may they curse their Second Breath,Who rise to a reviving Death.
Thou great Creator of Mankind,
Let Guilty Man Compassion find.
| Poems (1717) | |