A Word To The 'Elect'
You
may
rejoice
to
think
yourselves
secure;
You
may
be
grateful
for
the
gift
divine
—
That
grace
unsought,
which
made
your
black
hearts
pure,
And
fits
your
earth-born
souls
in
Heaven
to
shine.
But,
is
it
sweet
to
look
around,
and
view
Thousands
excluded
from
that
happiness,
Which
they
deserved,
at
least,
as
much
as
you,
—
Their
faults
not
greater,
nor
their
virtues
less?
And,
wherefore
should
you
love
your
God
the
more,
Because
to
you
alone
his
smiles
are
given;
Because
he
chose
to
pass
the
many
o'er,
And
only
bring
the
favoured
few
to
Heaven?
And,
wherefore
should
your
hearts
more
grateful
prove,
Because
for
ALL
the
Saviour
did
not
die?
Is
yours
the
God
of
justice
and
of
love
And
are
your
bosoms
warm
with
charity?
Say,
does
your
heart
expand
to
all
mankind?
And,
would
you
ever
to
your
neighbour
do
—
The
weak,
the
strong,
the
enlightened,
and
the
blind
-
As
you
would
have
your
neighbour
do
to
you?
And,
when
you,
looking
on
your
fellow-men,
Behold
them
doomed
to
endless
misery,
How
can
you
talk
of
joy
and
rapture
then?
—
May
God
withhold
such
cruel
joy
from
me!
That
none
deserve
eternal
bliss
I
know;
Unmerited
the
grace
in
mercy
given:
But,
none
shall
sink
to
everlasting
woe,
That
have
not
well
deserved
the
wrath
of
Heaven.
And,
Oh!
there
lives
within
my
heart
A
hope,
long
nursed
by
me;
(And,
should
its
cheering
ray
depart,
How
dark
my
soul
would
be!)
That
as
in
Adam
all
have
died,
In
Christ
shall
all
men
live;
And
ever
round
his
throne
abide,
Eternal
praise
to
give.
That
even
the
wicked
shall
at
last
Be
fitted
for
the
skies;
And,
when
their
dreadful
doom
is
past,
To
life
and
light
arise.
I
ask
not,
how
remote
the
day,
Nor
what
the
sinner's
woe,
Before
their
dross
is
purged
away;
Enough
for
me,
to
know
That
when
the
cup
of
wrath
is
drained,
The
metal
purified,
They'll
cling
to
what
they
once
disdained,
And
live
by
Him
that
died.
Acton
