Complaint of a general corruption of manners; or,
The promise and signs of Christ’s coming to judgment.
Help, Lord, for men of virtue fail,
Religion loses ground,
The sons of violence prevail,
And treacheries abound.
Their oaths and promises they break,
Yet act the flatterer’s part;
With fair deceitful lips they speak,
And with a double heart.
If we reprove some hateful lie,
How is their fury stirr’d!
“Are not our lips our own” they cry,
“And who shall be our lord?”
Scoffers appear on every side,
Where a vile race of men
Is rais’d to seats of power and pride,
And bears the sword in vain.
Lord, when iniquities abound,
And blasphemy grows bold,
When faith is hardly to be found,
And love is waxing cold,
Is not thy chariot hastening on?
Hast thou not given this sign?
May we not trust and live upon
A promise so divine?
“Yes,” saith the Lord, “now will I rise,
“And make oppressors flee;
“I shall appear to their surprise,
“And set my servants free.”
Thy word, like silver seven times try’d,
Thro’ ages shall endure;
The men that in thy truth confide,
Shall find thy promise sure.