1 Kind souls, who for the miseries moan
Of those who seldom mind their own;
But treat your zeal with cold disdain,
Resolved to make your labors vain.
2 You whose sincere affection tends,
To help your dear, ungrateful friends,
Who think you foes, or mad, or fools,
Because you fain would save their souls.
3 Though deaf to every warning given,
They scorn to walk with you to heaven;
But often think, and sometimes say,
They'll never go if that's the way.
4 Though they the Spirit of God resist,
Or ridicule your faith in Christ;
Though they blaspheme, oppose, condemn,
And hate you for your love to them.
5 One secret way is left you still,
To do them good against their will:
Here they can no obstruction give;
You may do this without their leave.
6 Fly to the throne of grace by prayer,
And pour out all your wishes there:
Effectual fervent prayer prevails,
When every other method fails.
The Christian's duty, exhibited in a series of hymns, 1791
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