1 Thou GOD of Love, thou ever-blest,
Pity my suff'ring State;
When wilt thou set my Soul at Rest,
From Lips that love Deceit?
2 Hard Lot of mine! Ny Days are cast
Among the Sons of Strife,
Whose never-ceasing Brawlings waste
My golden Hours of Life.
3 O might I fly to change my Place,
How would I chuse to dwell
In some wide lonesome Wilderness,
And leave these Gates of Hell!
4 Peace is the Blessing that I seek,
How lovely are its Charms!
I am for Peace; but when I speak,
They all declare for Arms.
5 New Passions still their Souls engage,
And keep their Malice strong:
What shall be done to curb thy Rage,
O thou devouring Tongue!
6 Should burning Arrows smite thee through,
Strict Justice would approve;
But I had rather spare my Foe,
And melt his Heart with Love.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Thou GOD of Love, thou ever-blest |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1740 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | Contention complained of; Evil Neighbors; Peace: with men desired(1 more...) |