Classic Poem

" SAD privilege is mine, to shew
What hour, which way, the bitter streams will flow
Oft have I said, " enough — no more
To uncharm'd ears th' unearthly strain I pour!"
But the dread word its way would win,
E'en as a burning fire my bones within.
And I was forced to tell aloud
My tale of warning to the reckless proud. "
Awful warning! yet in love
Breathed on each believing ear,
How Heaven in wrath would seem to move
The landmarks of a thousand year,
And from the tablets of th' eternal sky
The covenant oath erase of God Most High.
That hour, full timely was the leaf unroll'd,
Which to the man belov'd the years of bondage told,
And till his people's chain should be outworn,
Assign'd him for his lot times past and times unborn.