Classic Poem

Lord, in this disastrous season
Why dost thou at distance keep?
Times of turbulence and treason
Loudly for thine absence weep.

Worldlings for their own false pleasure
Cruelly the poor intreat;
Deal them not, O God, the measure
They in craft to Christians mete.

For the self-applauding vicious
Speak the bravest and the best
Of the griping avaricious,
Whom God's bounteous laws detest.

There is infinite alliance
'Twixt ungodliness and pride;
In their thoughts they bid defiance
To the God their words deride.

Hard their ways are, disregarding
In what throngs opposers bleed,
While thy love, thy bolts retarding,
Gives them courage to proceed.

For they've to themselves suggested,
Tush! we are not like to fall;
Nor shall ever be molested
With the common lot of all.

Fraught with double-tongu'd expression
Are their mouths and base deceit;
With vain lies and lewd transgression,
Thought and speech they are replete.

In the thievish corners lurking,
They th' unmansion'd poor prevent:
Blood-shot eyes with terror working
On the private stab intent.

Like a lion fierce and greedy,
Couchant in his secret den,
They're in wait to grind the needy;
All is prey within their ken.

And without remorse they grind him
With their teeth for slaughter set;
Whensoe'er the traitors find him
Caught within their cover'd net.

Formal, with affected meekness,
Each a seeming saint behaves;
That the poor, thro' want and weakness,
May become their captain's slaves.

In their hearts themselves they flatter;
Tush! the Lord beholds us not;
And the knowledge of the matter
Christ himself has quite forgot.

Rise, O Lord, the cause examine,
And thy mighty hand uprear;
In the day of war and famine
For the poor in pow'r appear

Why should every impious traitor
Such a foul presumption dare:
Tush! for God, the great Creator,
Will not for his creatures care.

Murder, theft, and devastation,
Thou hast seen their ruins lie,
For thy chosen church and nation
Are for ever in thine eye.

To thy goodness for their trial
The poor destitute appeal;
For with thee is no denial,
When for aid the friendless kneel.

Take from malice thy protection,
Throw the light on dark disguise,
Purge away each foul affection
And the wicked shall be wise.

Christ his crown of palms is wreathen,
And for ever, ever blooms;
King alike of Jews and heathen,
He th' eternal reign assumes.

Thou hast heard the poor's petition
Thou establishest their heart;
And the cry of their condition
Has ascended where thou art.

That with thy benign compassion
Thou thine orphans may'st redress;
From the men of worldly fashion,
Who are proud when they oppress.