Английская поэзия


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Isaac Watts (Исаак Уоттс)


* * *


I love the volumes of Thy Word;
What light and joy those leaves afford
To souls benighted and distressed!
Thy precepts guide my doubtful way,
Thy fear forbids my feet to stray,
Thy promise leads my heart to rest.

From the discoveries of Thy law
The perfect rules of life I draw;
These are my study and delight:
Not honey so invites the taste,
Nor gold that hath the furnace past
Appears so pleasing to the sight.

Thy threat'nings wake my slumb'ring eyes,
And warn me where my danger lies;
But 'tis Thy blessèd Gospel, Lord,
That makes my guilty conscience clean,
Converts my soul, subdues my sin,
And gives a free, but large reward.

Who knows the errors of his thoughts?
My God, forgive my secret faults,
And from presumptuous sins restrain:
Accept my poor attempts of praise,
That I have read Thy book of grace,
And book of nature, not in vain.



Isaac Watts's other poems:
  1. Psalm 136 (Give thanks to God most high)
  2. Psalm 34. Part 1 (Lord, I will bless thee all my days)
  3. Hymn 115 (Lord, how secure my conscience was)
  4. Hymn 90 (How sad our state by nature is!)
  5. Hymn 99 (Let the whole race of creatures lie)


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1664


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Английская поэзия