Classic Poem

No. VII.

Repulse me not; for whiter shall I flee?
The Words of Life are found alone with Thee.
Here slay me at Thy Feet, if die I must;
Dying, in Thee I'll fix my humble Trust:
Dying, erect my Eyes to Thee in Pray'r,
And in a suppliant Agony expire.

 Repulse me not; 'tis in my Saviour's Name,
Not in my own, Thy Grace I humbly claim:
And when in that prevailing Name I pray,
Thou art oblig'd, Thou canst not say me nay.
Hast Thou not bound Thyself with Thy own Mouth,
In the Engagements of eternal Truth?
And shall Hell's Pow'rs have Umbrage to blaspheme
Thy sacred Truth, and charge Thy spotless Name
With Breach of Faith? No! Thy Veracity
Shall shine from all infernal Censure free,
Exemplify'd, in Thy good Time, in me.
Thou wilt not let me seck Thy Face in vain,
Sigh to the Rocks, and to the Winds complain.
The Blessings Grace does wisely now deny,
Thou wilt in the most proper Hour supply.