P73c. Lord, what a thoughtless Wretch was I

1 Lord, what a thoughtless Wretch was I,
To mourn and murmur, and repine
To see the Wicked plac'd on high,
In Pride and Robes of Honour shine!

2 But, O their End, their dreadful End!
Thy Sanctuary taught me so;
O slipp'ry Rocks I see them stand,
And fi'ry Billows roll below.

3 Now let 'em boast how tall they rise,
I'll never envy them again;
There they may stand with haughty Eyes,
Till they plunge deep in endless Pain.

4 Their fancy'd Joys, how fast they flee!
Just like a Dream when Man awakes;
Their Songs of softest Harmony
Are but a Preface to their Plagues.

5 Now I esteem their Mirth and Wine
Too dear to Purchase with my Blood;
Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine,
My Life, my Portion, and my GOD.

Text Information
First Line: Lord, what a thoughtless Wretch was I
Meter: Long Metre
Language: English
Publication Date: 1740
Scripture: ; ; ;
Topic: Prosperity dangerous; Providence: its mystery unfolded
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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