Classic Poem

Song V

1

Thus far we have apply'd
Our Speech to mournful Saints,
To chear them under all their Griefs,
And silence their Complaints
But all men are not Saints
Whom Sorrow doth oppress:
Some may be in a heavy case,
Yet far from Holiness.

2

Some Hearts are almost broke
With Carnal Sorrows force;
That godly Sorrow never touch'd
With any true remorse.
What shall we say to these
That may some ease impart?
What Soveraign Medicine shall we use
To mitigate their smart?

3

Pour Souls! I pity you,
And do your case bemoan:
But peace to you I may not speak,
For God himself speaks none.
There is no peace saith God,
To th' wicked when distrest,
But they are like the Troubled Sea,
Which boils and cannot rest.

4

Oh that the Lord himself,
Who now doth thee chastise,
And makes thee sad, would waken thee,
And open thy blind eyes!
That God would help thee grieve,
For what should grieve thee most!
That thou a wretched sinner art,
That thou thy God hast lost.

5

Thou hast not him to go to,
When sorrows thee agrieve.
The Comforter is far away,
That should thy Soul relieve
Thou hast offended God,
And grieved him full sore,
And now he grieveth thee; let this,
Grieve and ashame thee more.

6

Could'st thou but lay to heart,
Thy sinful woful state,
It quickly would thine other griefs
Asswage and mitigate.
Oh get thy worldly grief
Turned to Godly sorrow,
Mourn for thy sins, and put not off
Repentance till to morrow.

7

Oh turn from every sin,
To God with all thine heart,
And make thy peace with him through Christ,
In Christ, Oh get a part.
If sorrow bring thee home,
To God in Christ believe
It will the happiest grieving be,
That ever thou didst grieve.

8

For God that wounded thee,
Thy Soul will also heal:
And unto thee his gracious love,
In Christ he will reveal
Oh therefore haste to Christ!
That so thou may'st not mourn,
Like unto them that have no hope,
Because they never turn.