CLV. Britain unreformed by remarkable Deliverances.

YES, Britain seem'd to Ruin doom'd,
Just like a burning Brand;
Till snatch'd from fierce surrounding Flames
By GOD'S indulgent Hand.

"Once more (he says) I will suppress
"The Wrath, that Sin would wake;
"Once more my Patience shall attend,
"And call my Britain back".

But who this Clemency reveres?
Or feels this melting Grace?
Who stirs his languid Spirit up
To seek thine awful Face?

On Days like these we pour our Cries,
And at thy Feet we mourn;
Then rise to tempt thy Wrath again,
And to our Sins return.

Our Nation far from GOD remains,
Far, as in distant Years;
And the small Remnant, that is found,
A dying Aspect wears.

Chast'ned and rescu'd thus in vain,
Thy righteous Hand severe
Into the Flames might hurl us back,
And quite consume us there.

So by the Light our Burning gives
Might neighb'ring Nations read,
How terrible thy Judgments are,
And learn our Guilt to dread.

Yet, 'midst the Cry of Sins like ours,
Incline thy gracious Ear;
And thine own Children's feeble Cry
With soft Compassion hear.

O by thy sacred Spirit's Breath
Kindle a holy Flame;
Refine the Land, thou might'st destroy,
And magnify thy Name.