Acts 7:27: He that did his neighbour wrong thrust Aim, &c

How gross our nature's blindness is
Who spurn what Christ would fain bestow'
Diseased, we cherish the disease,
Nor will our kind Physician know;
The subject will not own his Prince,
The criminal his Judge implore,
The slave Who frees him from his sins,
Or I a pardoning God adore.

But ah suffice the season pass'd,
I now to my dread Lord submit;
My Judge I recognise at last,
And groan for mercy at Thy feet:
Placed by Thy Father's arm Thou art,
A Prince, a Saviour, on the throne,
To certify my trembling heart
A I y Judge and Advocate are One.