Harmless I was; yet hunted down
For Treasons, to my Soul unfit;
I’ve been pursued through many a Town,
For Crimes that petty Knaves commit:
I’ve been adjudg’d t’ have lost my Wit,
Because I preach’d so loud and well,
And thrown into the Dungeon’s Pit,
For trampling on the Pit of Hell.
Such were the Evils, Man of Sin,
That I was fated to sustain;
And add to all, without—within,
A Soul defil’d with every Stain,
That Man’s reflecting Mind can pain;
That Pride, Wrong, Rage, Despair can make;
In fact, they’d nearly touch’d my Brain,
And Reason on her Throne would shake.
But Pity will the vilest seek,
If punish’d Guilt will not repine,—
I heard an heavenly Teacher speak,
And felt the Sun of Mercy shine:
I hail’d the Light! the Birth divine!
And then was seal’d among the few;
Those angry Fiends beheld the Sign;
And from me in an instant flew.
Come hear how thus, the Charmers cry,
To wandering Sheep the Strays of Sin;
While some the Wicket-gate pass by,
And some will knock and enter in;
Full joyful ’tis a Soul to win,
For he that winneth Souls is wise;
Now hark! the holy Strains begin,
And thus the sainted Preacher cries[18]:—
“Pilgrim burthen’d with thy Sin,
“Come the way to Zion’s Gate,
“There, till Mercy lets thee in,
“Knock and weep and watch and wait.
“Knock!—He knows the Sinner’s Cry;
“Weep!—He loves the Mourner’s Tears:
“Watch!—for, saving Grace is nigh:
“Wait,—till heavenly Light appears.”
“Hark! it is the Bridegroom’s Voice:
“Welcome, Pilgrim, to thy Rest;
“Now within the Gate rejoice,
“Safe and seal’d and bought and blest!
“Safe—from all the Lures of Vice,
“Seal’d—by Signs the Chosen know,
“Bought by Love and Life the Price,
“Blest—the mighty Debt to owe.
“Holy Pilgrim! what for thee,
“In a World like this remain?
“From thy guarded Breast shall flee,
“Fear and Shame, and Doubt and Pain.
“Fear—the Hope of Heaven shall fly,
“Shame—from Glory’s View retire,
“Doubt—in certain Rapture die,
“Pain—in endless Bliss expire.”
But though my Day of Grace was come,
Yet still my Days of Grief I find;
The former Clouds’ collected Gloom,
Still sadden the reflecting Mind;
The Soul to evil Things consign’d,
Will of their Evil some retain;
The Man will seem to Earth inclin’d,
And will not look erect again.
Thus, though elect, I feel it hard,
To lose what I possess’d before,
To be from all my Wealth debarr’d,—
The brave Sir Eustace is no more;
But old I wax and passing poor,
Stern, rugged Men my Conduct view;
They chide my Wish, they bar my Door,
’Tis hard—I weep—you see I do.—
Must you, my Friends, no longer stay?
Thus quickly all my Pleasures end?
But I’ll remember, when I pray,
My kind Physician and his Friend;
And those sad Hours, you deign to spend
With me, I shall requite them all;
Sir Eustace for his Friends shall send,
And thank their Love at Greyling Hall.