Classic Poem

A SONNET .

Thro' the dark shadows of my brain,
Conviction darts with piercing light!
Not like the morn, to cheer my aching sight,
But more like lightning on the dreary plain,
Casting terrific gleams on night! —
Thus, faintly thro' Confusion's gloom,
The horrors of the scene I see;
And sure, a refuge, like the tomb,
Must hide my wretchedness and me!
Take me, oh Saviour of Mankind!
One gleam of heav'nly Grace impart;
I bring thee (all a wretch can find)
A suff'ring, guilty, broken heart.
Clasping thy cross, I'll breathe my ardent pray'r,
And dark Perdition cannot seize me there.