Baxter - HP PR3316 .B36 1821

BAXTER'S POEMS. And is it any loss To follow with my cross, Till I attain the crown ? It's he that truly dies, 'fhat mercy doth despise, And at last God will disown . I knew that from my birth I was a mortal man: My frailty is confess'd . I knew my flesh was earth ; My life was but a span. ' And here -is not mv rest. lf thou canst say no m~re, All this I knew before, And yet thy threats defy. Have I long sought in pain, And would I not obtain, Joyful eternity ? 0 feeble thing! How canst thou conquer Christ, And make his promise void? First overcome my King, And his command resist, By whom thou art employ'd: First win the world above, And conquer endless love; And then I '11 be thy slave : Kill an immortal soul, And we will all condole, And fear a darksome grave. 11 3