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17

A Song of Mercy and Judgment.

WRITTEN AT ST. ALBANS IN 1764, AFTER THE POET'S RECOVERY.

I

Lord, I love the habitation
Where the Saviour's honour dwells.
At the sound of Thy salvation
With delight my bosom swells.
Grace Divine, how sweet the sound,
Sweet the grace that I have found.

II

Me thro' waves of deep affliction,
Dearest Saviour! Thou hast brought,
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Fiery deeps of sharp conviction
Hard to bear and passing thought.
Sweet the sound of grace Divine,
Sweet the grace which makes me Thine.

III

From the cheerful Beams of morning
Sad I turned mine eyes away:
And the shades of night returning
Filled my soul with new dismay.
Grace Divine, &c.

IV

Food I loathed, nor ever tasted
But by violence constrained.
Strength decay'd and body wasted
Spoke the terrors I sustained.
Sweet the sound, &c.

V

Bound and watch'd, lest Life abhorring,
I should my own death procure,
For to me the Pit of Roaring
Seem'd more easy to endure.
Grace Divine, &c.
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VI

Fear of Thee, with gloomy sadness,
Overwhelm'd Thy guilty worm,
Till reduced to moping madness,
Reason sank beneath the storm.
Sweet the sound, &c.

VII

Then, what soul-distressing noises
Seemed to reach me from below,
Visionary scenes and voices,
Flames of Hell, and screams of woe!
Grace Divine, &c.

VIII

But at length a word of Healing,
Sweeter than an angel's note,
From the Saviour's lips distilling,
Chas'd despair and chang'd my lot.
Sweet the sound, &c.
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IX

'Twas a word well-timed and suited
To the need of such an hour,
Sweet to one like me polluted,
Spoke in love and sealed with power.

X

“I,” He said, “have seen thee grieving,
Lov'd thee as I passed thee by.
Be not faithless, but Believing,
Look and live and never die.

XI

“Take the bloody seal I give thee,
Deep impressed upon thy soul;
God, thy God will now receive thee,
Faith hath sav'd thee, thou art whole.”
Grace Divine, &c.

XII

All at once, my chains were broken,
From my feet my fetters fell,
And that word, in pity spoken,
Snatched me from the gates of Hell.
Grace Divine, &c.
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XIII

Since that hour, in hope of glory,
With Thy foll'wers I am found,
And relate the wond'rous story
To Thy list'ning saints around.
Sweet the sound of grace Divine,
Sweet the grace which makes me Thine.
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