Treasure Island

Isaac Watts

(17 July 1674 – 25 November 1748 / Southampton / England)

Hymn 104


A state of nature and of grace.

1 Cor. 6:10,11.

Not the malicious or profane,
The wanton or the proud,
Nor thieves, nor sland'rers, shall obtain
Tue kingdom of our God.

Surprising grace! and such were we
By nature and by sin,
Heirs of immortal misery,
Unholy and unclean.

But we are washed in Jesus' blood,
We're pardoned through his name;
And the good Spirit of our God
Has sanctified our frame.

O for a persevering power
To keep thy just commands
We would defile our hearts no more,
No more pollute our hands.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: nature, power, god

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Hymn 104 by Isaac Watts )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. What is superior?, gajanan mishra
  2. Mind, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
  3. WE ARE TEMPORARILY HERE, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  4. Waxing Grandiloquent, Margaret Alice Second
  5. When The Evening Light Comes, Pijush Biswas
  6. Hindi haiku (56-60), S.D. TIWARI
  7. Retirement (or) Till Your Last, Natarajan Ramaseshan
  8. An illicit dream....., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
  9. The House Across Our Road, Kuda Bondamakara
  10. sadism, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]