Against the instrument of ill

Against the instrument of ill
O may I no resentment find,
No wrong, vindictive temper feel,
Unfriendly wish, or thought unkind;
But put the yearning bowels on,
The tender mercies of Thy Son.

Still would I keep the Lamb in view,
Harmless in thought, and word, and deed.
That Lover of His foes pursue.
Who sufiFer'd in His murderers' stead,
Expired Himself, that they might live,
And meekly gasp'd in death, " Forgive!"

His Spirit into my soul inspire,
That, in true holiness renew'd,
With pure, benevolent desire.
For evil I may render good,
Kind to my adversary prove,
And cruel hate requite with love.

If Thou forgive my debt immense,
I may forgive a trivial debt,
A fellow-servant's hundred pence
Against ten thousand talents set:
I do forgive, myself forgiven,
And haste to meet m.y foe in heaven.