How hurtful was the choice of Lot, Who took up his abode (Because it was a fruitful spot) With them who feared not God! A prisoner he was quickly made, Bereaved of all his store; And, but for Abraham’s timely aid, He had returned no more. Yet still he seemed resolved to stay As if it were his rest; Although their sins from day to day His righteous soul distressed. Awhile he stayed with anxious mind, Exposed to scorn and strife; At last he left his all behind, And fled to save his life. In vain his sons-in-law he warned, They thought he told his dreams; His daughters too, of them had learned, And perished in the flames. His wife escaped a little way, But died for looking back: Does not her case to pilgrims say, Beware of growing slack? Yea; Lot himself could ling’ring stand, Though vengeance was in view; ’Twas mercy plucked him by the hand, Or he had perished too. The doom of Sodom wilt be ours If to the earth we cleave; Lord, quicken all our drowsy pow’rs, To flee to Thee and live. -HOW HURTFUL WAS THE CHOICE OF LOT That righteous man dwelling among them…vexed his righteous soul from day to day with their unlawful deeds. 2 Peter 2:8 Words: John Newton, Olney Hymns (London: W. Oliver, 1779). Music: St. Magnus attributed to Jeremiah Clarke in The Divine Companion, second edition, by Henry Playford (London, 1707)
Posted on: Mon, 26 Jan 2015 03:57:00 +0000
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