The Christians Duty, exhibited, in a series of Hymns ‎#CLXXIII

CLXXIII. The Prosperity of Sinners cursed

1 Lord, what a thoughtless Wretch was I,
To mourn, and murmur, and repine,
To see the wicked plac'd on high,
In Pride and Robes of Honour shine!

2 But, O their End, their dreadful End!
Thy Sanctuary taught me so;
O slipp'ry Rocks I see them stand,
And fiery Billows roll below.

3 Now let them boast how tall they rise,
I'll never envy them again;
There they may stand with haughty Eyes,
Till they plunge deep in endless Pain.

4 Their fancy'd Joys, how fast they flee!
Just like a Dream when Man awakes;
Their Songs of softest Harmony
Are but a Preface to their plagues.

5 Now I esteem their Mirth and Wine
Too dear to Purchase with my Blood;
Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine,
My Life, my Portion, and my God.

Text Information

• First Line: Lord, what a thoughtless Wretch was I
• Title: The Prosperity of Sinners cursed
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1791
• Topic: Supplicatory Hymns

Tune Information

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