But, O, for ever from my mind
Hide ev’ry guilty joy;
Oor they’ve polluted all my life,
And will my soul destroy.
In sickness, pain, decay, and death,
What agonies ye bring!
All pointed with the envenom’d barb,
Of sin’s eternal sting.
—But have ye no sweet hope to give?
No comfort to supply?
Must I still languish and despair,
And then—ah! must I die?
How can my naked spirit stand
Before a righteous God?
Who, who, shall hide me from his eye,
Or shield me from his rod?
O what a load of guilt I feel!
My anguish who can tell?
My sins will shut me out of heav’n,
And sink me down to hell.
By all the mis’ries which I feel,
By all the wrath I dread;
By heav’ns just veng’ance soon to fall
On my devoted head;
I charge you to forsake your sins,
And to the Saviour fly:
O may he bless you while you live,
And save you when you die.
But as for me, can mercy come,
Call’d for with parting breath?”—
He said—and straight his quiv’ring lips,
For ever clos’d in death!
THE
History of Will Worthy and Nancy Wilmot.
In vain the living soul may strive
For happiness below;
This world no solid joy can give,
Nor lasting peace bestow.