On deriding him for becoming a Methodist!
Master, I beg you’ll pardon, while I speak,
The liberty I now presume to take;
And trust the brief apology you’ll hear,
Will please, if you will please to lend an ear.
“Wilt thou forsake the Church?” did you not say?
“And strive to get to Heaven some nearer way?
A better way perhaps by you believ’d:—
But ’twill be well if you are not deceiv’d?”
Deceiv’d, or not, we are resolv’d to go;
If Christ be with us, all is well we know!
He is our Leader, He marks out the way,
Inviting all to come, and none to stay!
The Church, or doctrine, we’ve no cause to blame,
’Tis to ourselves that we ascribe the shame!
The way to heav’n was certainly made plain,
When told to “run so that we might obtain.”
Our prayers and praises were so faint and few,
We thought one day in seven would surely do,
To praise Him who is worthy of more praise,
Than our best powers are qualified to raise!
Oft when we did approach the throne of grace,
Our hearts and thoughts were in some other place.
O shameful truth! And yet it is most true!
But conscience told us this would never do!
The nearest way to Heaven that we can go,
Is cleaving close to Christ while here below;
’Tis He that can our sinking footsteps stay,
And vain the man who seeks another way!
The man who truly has this race begun,
Will see no time to stand, but strive to run;
The night is coming, and will soon be here,
He’ll therefore oft betake himself to prayer:
Lest strength should fail, or he should grow luke-warm,
And his weak soul, the enemy disarm!
That Book declares, whose Author is “The Truth,”
The careless soul, “He’ll spew out of his mouth!”