THO’ sin too oft, when smitten by Thy rod,
Rail at “Blind Fate” with many a vain “Alas!”
From sin thro’ sorrow into Thee we pass
By that same path our true forefathers trod;
And let not Reason fail me, nor the sod
Draw from my death Thy living flower and grass,
Before I learn that Love, which is, and was.
My Father, and my Brother, and my God!
Steel me with patience! soften me with grief!
Let blow the trumpet strongly while I pray,
Till this embattled wall of unbelief,
My prison, not my fortress, fall away!
Then, if Thou wiliest, let my day be brief,
So Thou wilt strike Thy glory thro’ the day.
FOR no man did ever heartily pray against his sin in the midst of a temptation to it, if he did in any sense or degree listen to the temptation; for to pray against a sin, is to have desires contrary to it, and that cannot consist with any love or any kindness to it.
AND somewhat on this wise also it happens in the affections of the soul; certain traces and scars are left in it, in which if a man do not wholly eradicate, when he hath been again scourged on the same place, it shall make no longer scars, but sores.
THE giving way to the law of sin in the least is the giving strength to it. To let it alone is to let it grow; not to conquer it is to be conquered by it.