1 Ye sons of pride, that hate the just,
And trample on the poor,
When death has brought you down to dust,
Your pomp shall raise no more.
2 The last great day shall change the scene;
When will that hour appear!
When shall the just revive, and reign
O'er all that scorn'd them here?
3 God will my naked soul receive,
Call'd from the world away,
And break the prison of the grave,
To raise my mould'ring clay.
4 Heaven is my everlasting home,
Th' inheritance is sure;
Let men of pride their rage resume,
But I'll repine no more.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Ye sons of pride, that hate the just |
Title: | Death and resurrection |
Meter: | Common Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1791 |
Scripture: | |
Notes: | Now Public Domain. Second part |