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The World See, the world for youth prepares, Harlot-like, her gaudy snares! Pleasures round her seem to wait, But 'tis all a painted cheat. Rash and unsuspecting youth Thinks to find thee always smooth, Always kind, till better taught, By experience dearly bought. So the calm, but faithless sea (Lively emblem, world, of thee) Tempts the shepherd from the shore Foreign regions to explore. While no wrinkled wave is seen, While the sky remains serene, Fill'd with hopes, and golden schemes Of a storm he little dreams. But ere long the tempest raves, Then he trembles at the waves; Wishes then he had been wise, But too late—he sinks and dies. Hapless thus, are they, vain world, Soon on rocks of ruin hurl'd, Who admiring thee, untry'd, Court thy pleasure. wealth, or pride. Such a shipwreck had been mine, Had not Jesus (name divine!) Sav'd me with a mighty hand, And restor'd my soul to land. Now, with gratitude I raise Ebenezers to his praise; Now my rash pursuits are o'er, I can trust thee, world, no more. John Newton's other poems:
Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1684 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |