Rees Prichard Poems

O Thou! by whom the universe was made,
Mankind's support, and never failing aid,
Who bidd'st the earth her various products bear,
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O God of justice, health's immortal Sire!
Thou Judge of all! thou raiser of the low!
O hear my suit, and grant me my desire,
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Thou guardian of the weak, thou poor man's friend!
Hear from thy glorious throne, Almighty God!
That dost thine aid to fearful trav'lers lend,
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O Thou, that keepest hell's abyss close-barr'd,
And o'er its gates hast set a constant guard,
That Satan hast enchain'd, and death o'erthrown,
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Ye, who have felt the serpent's venom'd bite,
Coem all to Christ, the woman's promis'd seed,
He'll dress the sore, and pluck the sting out quite,
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MY gracious Lord! --
Be not surpriz'd to see
An humble Clergyman, of mean degree,
With such a simple Book the Man accost,
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MY shepherd is the Lord above,
Who ne'er will suffer me to rove;
In Him I'll trust; he is so good,
He'll never let me want for food.
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LET ev'ry man, his head and grateful eyes,
To God, our gen'rous caterer, lift up,
And beg of him with supplicating cries,
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Whoever a religious life wou'd live,
Submissive to the will of his dread Sire,
He first of all most earnestly must strive
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To get some pounds, and thy good name abuse -
To get, thro' loss of fame, mere dung and dross -
To get much wealth, and thy salvation lose,
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