Unto the Angel of the Church of the Laodiceans, Part 2

Amen to all that God hath said,
Witness Divine, the Just and True,
Who wast before the worlds were made,
Whose being no beginning knew.

With guilty self-condemning fear,
With humble self-abasing shame,
Thy Spirit's dreadful charge we hear,
Nor dare throw off the' imputed blame.

God of unspotted purity,
Us and our works canst Thou behold?
Justly we are abhorr'd by Thee,
For we are neither hot nor cold.

We call Thee Lord, Thy faith profess,
But do not from our hearts obey;
In soft Laodicean ease
We sleep our useless lives away.

We live in pleasures, and are dead;
In search of fame and wealth we live;
Commanded in Thy steps to tread,
We seek sometimes, but never strive.

A lifeless form we still retain,
Of this we make our empty boast,
Nor know the Name we take in vain;
The power of godliness is lost.

The power we daringly deny,
A fancied good, a madman's dream;
The truth itself we deem a lie,
The promised Holy Ghost blaspheme.

How long, great God, have we appear'd
Abominable in Thy sight?
Better that we had never heard
Thy word, or seen the gospel light.

Better that we had never known
The way to heaven through saving grace,
Than basely in our lives disown
And slight and mock Thee to Thy face.

Thou rather wouldst that we were cold,
Than seem to serve Thee without zeal;
Less guilty if, with those of old,
We worshipp'd Thor and Woden still.

Less grievous will the judgment-day
To Sodom and Gomorrah prove,
Than us, who cast our faith away
And trample on Thy richer love.