"There is a generation that are pure in their own eyes, and
yet is not washed from their filthiness." (Proverbs xxx. 12.)
Yes! once they met with us, and gave us the hand,
Uniting to sing and to pray;
But long could not bear the rigid command,
So off they went lilting away!
Forsaking the vulgar, whom now they despise,
For doctrines more learned and pure;—
This cutting off hands, and plucking out eyes,
This doctrine they could not endure!
They speak of perfection, but oft with disdain,
Our faults and our failings expose;
Because this perfection they cannot attain,
They'll plead for their muffs and their boas!
So lofty their eyelids, so lofty their looks,
They'll laugh at a sinner in tears;
Their prayers are lock'd up in their finely bound books,
While they're trimming their necks and their ears!
The new birth's convulsions they cannot have felt,
Or they dare not speak as they do;
Their heart is too proud into nothing to melt,
And must, while to mammon they bow.
Whenever their dwelling you chance to approach,
Of their soft invitation beware;
The pharisee's leaven, the good man's reproach,
And the seat of the scorner are there!
To folks of high breeding they offer their pledge,
'Gainst others to raise a complaint;
They'll skim on the surface, and trim off the edge,
To pass for a dignified saint!
The God of Elijah who sees through the heart,
These specious impostors will spurn,
And send them in spite of their cunning and art,
Where they will eternally mourn!