The Poetry Corner

Hatred Of Sin.

By William Cowper

Holy Lord God! I love thy truth, Nor dare thy least commandment slight; Yet pierced by sin, the serpents tooth, I mourn the anguish of the bite. But, though the poison lurks within, Hope bids me still with patience wait; Till death shall set me free from sin, Free from the only thing I hate. Had I a throne above the rest, Where angels and archangels dwell, One sin, unslain, within my breast, Would make that heaven as dark as hell. The prisoner, sent to breathe fresh air, And blessd with liberty again, Would mourn, were he condemnd to wear One link of all his former chain. But, oh! no foe invades the bliss, When glory crowns the Christians head; One view of Jesus as he is Will strike all sin for ever dead.