Classic Poem

When I say unto the Wicked, O wicked Man, thou shalt surely die, if thou dost not speak, to warn the Wicked from his Way, that wicked Man shall die in his Iniquity: but his Blood will I require at thine Hand.
Where is the Warning that our Watchmen give.
Who side the Wicked, and with Sinners live?
Wink at Prosaneness, nay the Crime applaud
Which they should labour, to make us avoid?
What need have we, to pay a lazy Tribe
Of Priests, whom Satan easily can bribe
To let unwary Souls, unheeded, stray
Into the Snares the Enemy doth lay?
Thou see'st the Sword, and the impending Storm,
Yet warnest not, the Wicked to reform;
You see Perdition, waiting on each Deed,
The Sword is plung'd, behold the Sinner bleed
“But at thine Hand, his Blood will I require”
Saith the Just God! then tremble at the dire,
At the unshaken Judgment of the Lord;
Who most assuredly will keep His Word.
Canst thou, that deadly Crime, Adult'ry, view,
And yet be dumb? self-interested Crew.
Sound! sound the Trumpet, tho' the Man be great.
Reprove his Fault, and warn him of his Fate.