POEM I
Refining Father, make me clean,
On me thy costly pearl bestow:
Thou art thyself the pearl I prize,
The only joy I seek below.
Disperse the clouds that damp my soul,
And make my heart unfit for thee:
Cast me not off, but seal me now
Thine own peculiar property.
Look on the wounds of Christ for me,
My sentence graciously reprieve:
Extend thy peaceful sceptre, Lord,
And bid the dying traitor live.
Tho’ I’ve transgress’d the rules prescrib’d,
And dar’d the justice I adore,
Yet let thy smiling mercy say,
Depart in peace, and sin no more.