The Lepers With Their Sores Oppressed
The Lepers with their sores oppress’d,
With one accord our Lord address’d–
Their voices rais’d, and cried thus:
Jesus, good master, pity us.
How soon are diff’rent minds agreed,
When they alike feel what they need;
The thankful and unthankful too,
In such a case alike they do.
Their pray’rs alike iin one was join’d,
Each hop’d a cure with Christ to find:
And as they hop’d, and as they b’liev’d,
They all were heart and each reliev’d.
Then all alike should thankful be,
And with one heart and mind agree!
To glorify their Lord alone,
For such great mercies he had shown.
But how unthankful, vile and base,
Is greatest part of human race:
One only thankful out of ten,
Which shews what evil dwells in men.
The Saviour’s mercy thus forgot,
And all his bounties set at nought–
Becomes a crime and horrid vice,
Which God will ever more despise.
The worst of Leprosy is sin!
Corrupts and marrs the soul within;
Intolerable to endure,
Which none but Christ himself can cure.
Those who by faith to him appli’d;
They dare not say they were deni’d;
Their pray’rs and cries were always heard,
And all their soul’s complaints were cur’d.
But O, when such forget their God,
And the effects of Jesus’ blood;
They scandalize his holy word,
Shame and disgrace is their reward.