English poem
Ccxvi. [175]
by Michael Wigglesworth (1631–1705)
The pain of loss their souls doth toss, and wond’rously distress, To think what they have cast away by willful wickedness. “We might have been redeem’d from sin,” think they, “and liv’d above. Being possesst of Heav’nly rest, and joying in God’s love