Lord help, it is high time for me to call, No men are left that charity do love, Nay even the race of good men are decayed. Of things vain with vain mates they babble all, Their abject lips no breath but flattery move Sent from false heart on double meaning stayed. But Thou, O Lord, give them a thorough fall, Those lying lips from cozening head remove, In falsehood wrapt, but in their pride displayed. Our tongues, say they, beyond them all shall go; We both have power, and will our tales to tell, For what lord rules our bold emboldened breast. Ah, now even for their sakes, that taste of woe, Whom troubles toss, whose natures need doth quell, Even for the signs, true signs of man distressed, I will get up saith God, and My help show Against all them, that against Him do swell, Maugre their force I will set him at rest. These are God's words, God's words are ever pure, Pure, purer than the silver throughly tried When fire seven times hath spent his earthly parts. Then Thou, O Lord, shalt keep the good still sure. By Thee preserved, in Thee they shall abide; Yea, in no age Thy bliss from them departs. Thou seest each side the walking doth endure Of these bad folks, more lifted up with pride, Which if it last woe to all simple hearts. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANOTHER SONG WITHOUT WORDS by PAUL VERLAINE THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH: A DREAM OF PONCE DE LEON by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH THE SONG OF A HEATHEN by RICHARD WATSON GILDER WHAT IS LONDON'S LAST NEW LION? by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY IN THAT DAY by ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON WRITTEN IN ZIMMERMAN'S SOLITUDE by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS |