This Jesus shall conquer the world!
The proud and the lofty subdue!
With terrible banners unfurl’d,
Shall sift both believers and you:—
The poor, not because he is poor,
Nor the rich for his riches regard;
But thoroughly purging His floor,
Appoint unto each his reward!
Believers! who wish to be whole;—
A fountain long open hath been,
To wash out the spots of the soul,—
O hasten to wash and be clean!
When sin shall experience its death,
Then you the grand secret shall know;
Shall Heaven enjoy upon Earth,
And be happy and useful below!
TO A HORSE, DYING ALONE!
Poor, hapless beast, thus left by all below,
Amongst the noblest of God’s creatures, thou,
Once free from pain,
Didst trip the plain;
But Oh! how much thy case is alter’d now!
Thy groom and master seem to stand aloof!
Is it, because of thee they’ve had enough?
Is it respect,
Or sheer neglect,
That of their care thou hast no stronger proof?
Perhaps they do not like to hear or see
Thy last deep groan, thy dying agony!
The grass upspurn’d,
Thine eye upturn’d,
Bespeak its weight to heedless passers by!
That hoarse deep sigh, the sad effect of sin,
Proclaims the depth of agony within!
On man and beast,
Greatest and least,
Grim Death doth feed, and glad his victim win!