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THE POEMS OF BURNS.
A PRAYER, IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH.
O Thou unknown, Almighty Cause
Of all my hope and fear!
In whose dread presence, ere an hour,
Perhaps I must appear!
Of all my hope and fear!
In whose dread presence, ere an hour,
Perhaps I must appear!
If I have wander'd in those paths
Of life I ought to shun;
As something, loudly in my breast,
Remonstrates I have done;
Of life I ought to shun;
As something, loudly in my breast,
Remonstrates I have done;
Thou know'st that Thou hast formed me
With passions wild and strong;
And list'ning to their witching voice
Has often led me wrong.
With passions wild and strong;
And list'ning to their witching voice
Has often led me wrong.
Where human weakness has come short,
Or frailty stept aside,
Do Thou, All-Good! for such Thou art,
In shades of darkness hide.
Or frailty stept aside,
Do Thou, All-Good! for such Thou art,
In shades of darkness hide.
Where with intention I have err'd,
No other plea I have,
But, Thou art good; and Goodness still
Delighteth to forgive.
No other plea I have,
But, Thou art good; and Goodness still
Delighteth to forgive.
STANZAS ON THE SAME OCCASION.
Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene!
Have I so found it full of pleasing charms?
Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between:
Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renewing storms;
Is it departing pangs my soul alarms?
Or Death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode?
For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms;
I tremble to approach an angry God,
And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod.
Have I so found it full of pleasing charms?
Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between:
Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renewing storms;
Is it departing pangs my soul alarms?
Or Death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode?
For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms;
I tremble to approach an angry God,
And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod.
Fain would I say, 'Forgive my foul offence!'
Fain promise never more to disobey;
But, should my Author health again dispense,
Again I might desert fair virtue's way;
Again in folly's path might go astray;
Again exalt the brute, and sink the man;
Then how should I for Heavenly mercy pray,
Who act so counter Heavenly mercy's plan?
Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation ran?
Fain promise never more to disobey;
But, should my Author health again dispense,
Again I might desert fair virtue's way;
Again in folly's path might go astray;
Again exalt the brute, and sink the man;
Then how should I for Heavenly mercy pray,
Who act so counter Heavenly mercy's plan?
Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation ran?
O Thou, great Governor of all below!
If I may dare a lifted eye to Thee,
Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow,
And still the tumult of the raging sea:
With that controuling pow'r assist ev'n me,
Those headlong furious passions to confine,
For all unfit I feel my powers be,
To rule their torrent in th' allowed line;
O, aid me with Thy help, Omnipotence Divine!
If I may dare a lifted eye to Thee,
Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow,
And still the tumult of the raging sea:
With that controuling pow'r assist ev'n me,
Those headlong furious passions to confine,
For all unfit I feel my powers be,
To rule their torrent in th' allowed line;
O, aid me with Thy help, Omnipotence Divine!
