The True Christian

See now the man of wond'rous birth, Born from above, but dwells on earth, Whose heart Religion fills: By wisdom guided in his way, On wings of faith he mounts to-day Towards everlasting hills.

Lord of himself, his noble mind, From fetters free and unconfined, A flight sublime maintains; But little his concern to know What's done by mortals here below, Who drag about their chains.

Pleased with himself and satisfied, While streams of pleasure gently glide From fountain head on high; Possesses all beneath the sun, And smiles to see how mortals run To catch those things which fly.

Pleased with the present, he enjoys Himself at ease, nor wants those toys Which little minds call great; Crowns, riches, honours and such things, Which please the vulgar, yea and kings, He treads beneath his feet.

In love with that fair Goddess bright, Who sits enthroned in realms of light, No meaner flame can burn: 'Tis she that leads to Jesus' arms, And gives possession of his charms; Christ and Religion's one.

Love this fair Goddess; and serene She'll make you pass thro' life's dark scene, And gild your passing days: Grace your last moments with her light, Then wast your souls to regions bright, To join angelic lays.