John Bowring (1792-1872 / England)
When the great Apostle spoke
To Judea's tyrant lord,
Felix trembled as he woke
Conscience, with his awful word.
When he told of fraud and wrong,
Sin and shame and judgment near,
Felix trembled as his tongue
Laid the cherished vices bare.
When he reasoned thus-'Canst thou
Judgment shun, who shunn'st not crime?'
Felix trembling cried, 'Not now;
Wait a more convenient time!'
Did that season ever come?
No! his heart was seared and steeled;
No! death sped the sinner home,
There is no convenient time
In the future. Now-to-day,
You may wake, may conquer crime;
But, alas! to-morrow-nay!
Comments about this poem (Felix trembled by John Bowring )
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