A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
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Adam's Fall.
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 | A memorial volume of sacred poetry |  |
Adam's Fall.
You tell me Adam fell,—he fell,—
What has his fall to do with me?
If we but walk erect and well,
What matters it to us that he
Fell,—listening to the Syren tongue
Of one who on his bosom hung?
What has his fall to do with me?
If we but walk erect and well,
What matters it to us that he
Fell,—listening to the Syren tongue
Of one who on his bosom hung?
The offence, whate'er it was, was his!
As my offences must be mine;
And all that was, and all that is,
Beneath the Sovereign Eye divine,
Fit pain or penalty shall meet,
From the all-judging mercy-seat.
As my offences must be mine;
And all that was, and all that is,
Beneath the Sovereign Eye divine,
Fit pain or penalty shall meet,
From the all-judging mercy-seat.
| A memorial volume of sacred poetry | |