The sinner's lips, with curses fraught (Osborne Wight)
- Editor: Edmund Gooch (submitted 2011-11-08). Score information: A4, 3 pages, 39 kB Copyright: Public Domain
- Edition notes: The last note is printed as a minim in all parts in the original.
Original text and translations
The sinner's lips, with curses fraught,
Words ill according to his thought
Have utter'd, and beneath his tongue
Lurk fraud, and violence, and wrong.
Beside the solitary way,
Intent the helpless poor to stay,
He waits, and with malignant eye
Insidious marks each passer by.
As, couch'd within his bushy lair,
The lion fierce with hideous glare
Around him casts his wide survey,
And meditates the future prey,
So longs the man of blood to seize
The souls that own thy just decrees:
When, planted with successful care,
His nets their captive feet insnare,
What, Lord, his fury shall withstand,
Or save them from the murth'rous band,
That, leagu'd in sin, assist his toil,
And share with him the guilty spoil?
"Shall Heav'n's high Lord", he cries, "descend
The human actions to attend?
The paths by me at will pursu'd
His mem'ry and his thought elude."
Rise, mightiest Lord, and lift thy hand,
Nor let the injur'd poor demand
Thy saving aid with fruitless pray'r,
But guard them by thy fost'ring care.
Why should the souls, who thee decry,
With impious tongues reproachful cry,
"'Tis not within th'Almighty's plan
To scrutinize the acts of man?"