My God, how gracious art thou! I had slipped Almost to hell, And on the verge of that dark, dreadful pit Did hear them yell, But O thy love! thy rich, almighty love That saved my soul, And checked their fury, when I saw them move, And heard them howl; O my sole Comfort, take no more these ways, This hideous path, And I will mend my own without delays, Cease thou thy wrath! I have deserved a thick, Egyptian damp, Dark as my deeds, Should @3mist@1 within me, and put out that lamp Thy spirit feeds; A darting conscience full of stabs and fears; No shade but @3yew@1, Sullen and sad eclipses, cloudy spheres, These are my due. But he that with his blood (a price too dear) My scores did pay, Bid me, by virtue from him, challenge here The brightest day; Sweet, downy thoughts; soft @3lily@1-shades; calm streams; Joys full and true; Fresh, spicy mornings; and eternal beams: These are his due. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE INFLATION OF THE CURRENCY, 1919 by ROBERT FROST THE PITY OF IT by THOMAS HARDY WEDDED (PROVENCAL AIR) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 18. AL-RAZZAK by EDWIN ARNOLD THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 5 by THOMAS CAMPION THE ORIENTAL WAY, SELECTION by GEORGE COLMAN THE YOUNGER |