Such were the evils, man of sin. That I was fated to sustain; And add to all, without--within, A soul defiled with every stain That man's reflecting mind can pain; That pride, wrong, rage, despair, can make; In fact, they'd nearly touch'd my brain, 330 And reason on her throne would shake. But pity will the vilest seek, If punish'd guilt will not repine;-- I heard a heavenly teacher speak, And felt the SUN OF MERCY shine: I hail'd the light! the birth divine! And then was seal'd among the few; Those angry fiends beheld the sign, And from me in an instant flew. Come, hear how thus the charmers cry 340 To wandering sheep, the strays of sin, While some the wicket-gate pass by, And some will knock and enter in: Full joyful 'tis a soul to win, For he that winneth souls is wise; Now, hark! the holy strains begin, And thus the sainted preacher cries[29]:-- "Pilgrim, burthen'd with thy sin, Come the way to Zion's gate, There, till Mercy let thee in, 350 Knock and weep, and watch and wait. Knock!--He knows the sinner's cry; Weep!--He loves the mourner's tears; Watch!--for saving grace is nigh; Wait!--till heavenly light appears. "Hark! it is the Bridegroom's voice; Welcome, pilgrim, to thy rest; Now within the gate rejoice, Safe and seal'd, and bought and bless'd! Safe--from all the lures of vice; 360 Seal'd--by signs the chosen know; Bought--by love and life the price; Bless'd--the mighty debt to owe. "Holy Pilgrim! what for thee In a world like this remain? From thy guarded breast shall flee Fear and shame, and doubt and pain. Fear--the hope of Heaven shall fly; Shame--from glory's view retire; Doubt--in certain rapture die; 370 Pain--in endless bliss expire." But though my day of grace was come, Yet still my days of grief I find; The former clouds' collected gloom Still sadden the reflecting mind; The soul, to evil things consign'd. Will of their evil some retain; The man will seem to earth inclined, And will not look erect again. Thus, though elect, I feel it hard 380 To lose what I possess'd before, To be from all my wealth debarr'd:-- The brave Sir Eustace is no more. But old I wax and passing poor, Stern, rugged men my conduct view; They chide my wish, they bar my door, 'Tis hard--I weep--you see I do.--