Wretched Man, if fuch Careffing
Work. not on thy brutal Heart;
If thou spurn'ft the heav'nly Bleffing,
Thou will not in it have Part.
Blame thy Conduct, charge not Heaven,
On thy Head thy Blood will lie:
Every Help to thee is given
Suiting Man's free Agency.
Do not for a Moment's Pleasure,
Forfeit this thy dear-bought Right
To the Joy and endless Treature,
Which the Gofpel brought to Light.
Ufe thy Reafon, Grace affifting
Every Faculty within;
Thou shalt know a brave refifting
All the deadly Powers of Sin..
Tafte Religion's chafte Embraces,
Faith with genuine Works adorn ;
Virtue has eternal Graces,
Fresh and blooming every Morn.
All her Joys beyond expreffing,
Peace that yields a golden Crop ;
She's in Life the choiceft Bleffing,
And in Death the grateful Drop.
Wing thy Soul, and qualify her,
For the Converfe held above,
Tip thy Tongue, to join the Choir
In melodious Strains of Love.
Utterly disclaiming Merit;
Praise the Father and the Son,
Jointly with the Holy Spirit,
An Eternal Three in One!