English poem
Spiritual Inactivity lamented
by Anonymous
Jesus! What eager Zeal inspir'd Thy Heart to die for me! O that my languid Breast were fir'd With equal Flame to Thee!
But how has Sin benumb'd my Soul! My Heart how hard and dead! My softest Passions, ah how dull! Heavy and cold as Lead.
Mean Time inferior Toys can charm, And all my Passions move: A Friend or Relative can warm, And melt my Heart to Love.
My Thoughts refuse to soar to Thee, But full of Vigour spring To chase some gilded Vanity, Some useless trifling Thing.
Blest JESUS! I would rather lose My thinking Faculty, Than waste my Thoughts on Trifles thus, And never think of Thee.
If my soft Passions be not Thine, My Passions are a Pain; Let me the Power of Love resign, Rather than love in vain.
LORD, 'tis a Curse to live and breathe, Unless I live to Thee; If I must lie thus stupid, Death Is better than to Be.
Thy quick'ning Energy exert, Blest JESUS! and bestow A living Soul, a tender Heart To serve my GOD below.