Classic Poem

No. VI.

That I'm the vilest Sinner, L ORD ! I own
In penitent Prostration at Thy Throne;
Worthy an endless Monument to be
To thousand Worlds not to revolt from Thee:
But did not J ESUS die? This is my Plea;
And has that charming Name no Force with Thee?
Insult my Groans, reject my loudest Cries;
But Oh! canst Thou the Saviour's Blood despise?
Say, are my Crimes to such a Vastness grown,
That ev'n the Blood of J ESUS can't atone?
O no! then let Thy boundless Mercy shine
With Splendors equal to these Crimes of mine.

 But if Thou doom me from Thy blissful Sight,
And frowning say, “ I've in him no Delight ;
“ Lo, here I am! ”——But oh! the most undone
And wretched Thing Omniscience e'er has known.
The Thought is Death! 'tis Hell! my Spirits break!
I'm overwhelm'd!——I'm lost!——I cannot speak!

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