A Hymn

BY E. PARTRIDGE

We read of the sufferings of saints long ago, Tho' we are oppress'd, we will sing and praise God,

How tyrants destry'd them without a just cause. For he counts us worthy to bare it for Christs' sake;

So modern saints too, have their sufferings and woes ; All sons must be chast'ned, and prov'd with the rod,

In this land of freedom, religion and laws . Then let us not murmur, nor his cause forsake.

They have been tarr'd, feather'd, and often times whip'd, How long, O my God, shall the enemy reign,

Been murder'd, and plunder'd, and robbed, and driv'n; And rob, drive and murder, the saints without cause?

Their housed destroy'd, till they have been strip'd When shall they have power their rights to maintain,

Of all earthly wealth, but they've treasures in heav'n.

Shall mobs always triumph, in spite of the laws?

Oh! no for the prophets have foretold a time, Oh! hasten dear Lord, hasten on that blest day,

(But not till the Ancient of days shall have sit,) My soul will rejoice, should I live till it come;

That saints shall have power, wisdom divine, Prepare Lord thy saints, for the happy era,

The kingdom to take, and then to possess it. That we may be ready, and bid it welcome.