Frequently we fall from grace As old desires have their way, Usurping the spirit's hallowed place, Revelling in sordid play.
The Witness in the background waits Regarding with eternal eyes As the lower nature sates Its ravenous propensities.
Although the inner cost is high And painful from the depths our climb, The soul assured its destiny That lies beyond the tides of time
Prompts the being's voiceless call To purify the temple-ground, Determined never to forestall The cleansing love again refound.
Poems Undated (1727)
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