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126 FABER'S HYMNS.
There is not one evil that sin hath not brought me, There is not one good that hath come in its train;
It hath cursed me through life, and its sorrows have sought me, Each day that went by, in want, sickness, or pain.
And then, when this life of affliction is ended, What a home for my weary heart did it prepare ?
The anger of Him whom my sins had offended, And the night, the sick night of eternal despair.
Yes ! death would have come, and its angel have torn me By force to the judgment where hope could not be; And the spirit of darkness from thence would have borne me To unspeakable woes in his wide burning sea.
Where the worms and the wails and the lashes cease never,
My poor ruined soul would have sickened of fire, And I should be tortured for ever and ever,
But the pains of eternity never would tire.
The corn field all trampled to mud by the catile, The house whose scorched walls have been blackened by fire, —
Ah ! such was my soul when the desolate battle Of sin raged within it, and sinful desire. |
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