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S. M.

The wickedness of man, and the majesty of God; or, Practical atheism exposed.


When man grows bold in sin,

My heart within me cries,

"He hath no faith of God within,

Nor fear before his eyes.

[He walks awhile concealed

In a self-flatt'ring dream,

Till his dark crimes at once revealed

Expose his hateful name.]

His heart is false and foul,

His words are smooth and fair;

Wisdom is banished from his soul,

And leaves no goodness there.

He plots upon his bed

New mischiefs to fulfil

He sets his heart, and hand, and head,

To practise all that's ill.

But there's a dreadful God,

Though men renounce his fear;

His justice, hid behind the cloud,

Shall one great day appear.

His truth transcends the sky,

In heav'n his mercies dwell;

Deep as the sea his judgments lie,

His anger burns to hell.

How excellent his love,

Whence all our safety springs!

O never let my soul remove

From underneath his wings.

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