Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/276

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A SUNDAY-THOUGHT IN SICKNESS.

drowned in my font, and that water which was to and give me new life, had proved mortal in another sense! I had then died without any guilt of my own, but what I brought into the world with me, and that too atoned for; I mean that which I contracted from my first parents, my unhappiness rather than fault, inasmuch as I was fain to be born of a sinning race: then I had never enhanced it with acquired guilt, never added those innumerable crimes which must make up my indictment at the grand audit. Ungrateful wretch! I've made my sins as numerous as those blessings and mercies the Almighty bounty has conferred upon me, to oblige and lead me to repentance. How have I abused and misemployed those parts and talents which might have rendered me serviceable to mankind, and repaid an interest of glory to their donor! How ill do they turn to account which I have made the patrons of debauchery, and pimps and panders to vice! How oft have I broke my vows to my great Creator, which I would be conscientious of keeping to a silly woman, a creature beneath myself! What has all my religion been but an empty parade and show? Either an useful hypocrisy taken up for interest, or a gay specious formality worn in complaisance to custom and the mode, and as changeable as my clothes and their fashion. How oft have I gone to church (the place where we are to pay Him homage and duty) as to an assignation or play, only for diversion; or at best, as I must ere long (for aught I know) with my soul severed from my body? How I tremble at the remembrance! as if I could put the sham upon Heaven, or a God were to be imposed on like my fellow-creature. And dare I, convicted of these high treasons against the King of Glory, dare I expect a reprieve or pardon? Has He thunder, and are not all his bolts levelled at my head, to strike me through the very centre? Yes, I dare appeal to thee, boundless pity and compassion! My own instances already tell me, that Thy mercy is infinite; for I've done enough to shock long-sufferance itself, and weary out an eternal patience. I beseech Thee by Thy soft and gentle attributes of mercy and forgiveness, by the last dying accents of my suffering Deity, have pity on a poor, humble, prostrate and confessing sinner; and Thou, great ransom of lost mankind, who offered'st thyself a sacrifice to atone our guilt, and redeem our mortgaged happiness, do Thou be my Advocate, and intercede for me with the angry Judge.

 
My prayers are heard, a glorious light now shone,
And, lo! an angel-post comes hastening down