1 The wicked Fools must sure suppose,
that God is but a Name:
This gross Mistake their Practice shows,
since Virtue all disclaim.
2 The Lord look'd down from Heav'n's high Tow'r,
the Sons of Men to view,
To see if any own'd His Pow'r,
or Truth or Justice knew.
3 But all, He saw, were backward gone,
degen'rate grown and base;
None for Religion, car'd, not one
of all the sinful Race.
4 But are those Workers of Deceit
so dull and senseless grown,
That they like Bread my People eat,
and God's just Pow'r disown?
5 Their causeless Fears shall strangely grow;
and they, despis'd of God,
Shall soon be soil'd: His Hand shall throw
their shatter'd Bones abroad.
6 Would He his saving Pow'r employ,
to break our servile Band,
Loud Shouts of universal Joy
should echo thro' the Land.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | The wicked Fools must sure suppose |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1760 |
Scripture: | |
Notes: | Now Public Domain. |