{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/wikisource_Dialogue_between_a_blind_man_and_death/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/wikisource_Dialogue_between_a_blind_man_and_death","id":"wikisource_Dialogue_between_a_blind_man_and_death","license":"Public Domain / CC-BY-SA (see source)","rights_basis":"wikisource_site_inclusion_policy","source":"wikisource","source_url":"https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Dialogue_between_a_blind_man_and_death","summary":null,"tags":["1740s_works","18th_century_works","Chapbooks","Main_pages_with_authority_control_data","PD-old","Pamphlets","Religion","Scotland","Scottish_poetry","Works_using_categories_parameter","Works_with_non-numeric_dates","Works_with_reconstructed_words_or_phrases"],"text":"A\n\nDIALOGUE\n\nBETWEEN\n\nA Blind Man and Death.\n\nBy Mr Richard Standfa\u017ft late Mini\u017fter of Chri\u017ft's\n\nChurch, in the city of Bri\u017ftol.\n\nALSO, THE\n\nGREAT ASSIZE,\n\nOR\n\nCHRISTS's Certain and Sudden appearance to Judgment.\n\nBeing \u017ferious Con\u017fiderations on the four la\u017ft Things\n\nDeath, Judgment, Heaven, Hell\n\nBy John Bunyan Author of the Pilgrim's Progre\u017fs:\n\nEDINBURGH:\n\nPrinted and \u017fold in Swan - Clo\u017fe\n\nTo the Reader.\n\nREADER, perhaps thou'll \u017fay, it is not fit,\n\nThe\u017fe two Men's Works, \u017fhould make a Book complete,\n\nBut why? If Moderation does attend\n\nThy Spirit, quickly all \u017fuch Thoughts \u017fu\u017fpend.\n\nIn them's no Controver\u017fy, but each \u017fhows\n\nBoth ble\u017ft Enjoyment and eternal Woes\n\nThey're dead, and reconciled with God above,\n\nRead therefore, humble Chri\u017ftians, read with Love.\n\nA Dialogue between a Blind\n\nman and Death.\n\nBlind Man,\n\nTH E more Men \u017fee, the le\u017fs they do enquire,\n\nThe wor\u017fe they \u017fee, the more they do de\u017fire,\n\nOthers to grant what Blindne\u017fs cannot give,\n\nAnd for Intelligence grow inqui\u017fitive;\n\nThey ask to be inform'd, who cannot \u017fee,\n\nI knew't by \u017fad Experience, woes me!\n\nDeath.\n\nWhere are you, Sir? what fitting all alone?\n\nI did \u017fuppofe 'twas you by this \u017fad Moan\n\nComing this way to gather what's my due,\n\nI thought it not ami\u017fs to call on you.,\n\nBlind Man.\n\nI do not know that Voice, 'tis fure fome Stranger,\n\nAnd by his Words he \u017feems to bode me danger.\n\nDeath.\n\nYou gue\u017fs aright, Sir, and before I go,\n\nKnow me you \u017fhall, whether you will or no.\n\nBlind Man\n\nWhy, what are you? Pray tell me what's your Name\n\nAnd what's your Bu\u017fine\u017fs, al\u017fo whence you came?\n\nDeath\n\nI will declare what no Man can deny,\n\nThere's none \u017fo great a Traveller as I;\n\nYet you mu\u017ft know I am no wandring Rover,\n\nFor my Dominions lie the World all over;\n\nI march through Court and Country, Town and City\n\nI know not how to fear, or how to pity.\n\nThe highe\u017ft Cedar, and the lowe\u017ft Flower,\n\nSooner or later do both feel my Power.\n\nThe might'e\u017ft Emp'rors do \u017fubmit to me,\n\nNor is the poore\u017ft tatter'd Beggar free.\n\nIn Peace I glean here one, and there another,\nSometimes I \u017fweep away whole Streets together\n\nIn Time of War, this much I can divine,\n\nWhoever gets the Day the Triumph's mine.\n\nI am indeed a very great Commander,\n\n'Twas I that Conquer'd the great Alexander,\n\nAnd after all the Victories he wan,\n\nCompell'd him to confe\u017fs him\u017felf a Man.\n\nWere you Gollah great, or Sam\u017fon \u017ftrong,\n\nWere you as wi\u017fe and rich as Solomon,\n\nWere you as Ne\u017ftor old, as Infant young\n\nHad you the fare\u017ft Cheeks, the \u017fweete\u017ft Tongue,\n\nYet you mu\u017ft \u017ftoop: all this would nought avail,\n\nFor my Arre\u017fts will not admit of Bail.\n\nFor to deal plainly, Sir, my Name is Death,\n\nAnd it's my Bu\u017fine\u017fs to demand your Breath.\n\nBlind Man.\n\nMy Breath and Life \u017fhall both go out together.\n\nDeath.\n\nOn the fame Errand 'twas that I came hither.\n\nI'll have both Breath and Life without Delay,\n\nYou mu\u017ft and \u017fhall di\u017fpatch\u00a0? come come away.\n\nBlind Man.\n\nWhy in \u017fuch po\u017fting ha\u017fte? Pray change your mind\n\n'Tis a poor Conque\u017ft to \u017furpri\u017fe the Blind.\n\nDeath.\n\nYou may not call it po\u017fting or \u017furprize,\n\nFor you had warning when you lo\u017ft your Eyes:\n\nNor could you hope your House \u017fhould long be free,\n\nWhen once your Windows were po\u017f\u017feft by me.\n\nBlind Man.\n\nBut Life is \u017fweet, who would not if he might,\n\nHave one long Day before be bids Good-night;\n\nO \u017fpare me yet a while \u017flight not my Tears!\n\nDeath\n\nHard Hearts and hungry Bellies have no Ears,\n\nBlind Man.\n\nI am not yet quite ready for the Table;\n\nDeath.\n\nAll's one to me, I am inexorable,\n\nyet\n\nBlind Man.\n\nYer by your Favour I may \u017ftep a\u017fide?\n\nDeath.\n\nBe not deceived, 'tis in vain to hide;\n\nMy Forces are di\u017fper\u017fed thro' all Places,\n\nAnd act for me without re\u017fpect of Faces.\n\nI have a thou\u017fand ways to \u017fhorten Life.\n\nBe\u017fides a Raper, Pi\u017ftol, Sword or: Knife;\n\nA Fly, a Hair, a Splinter of a Thorn,\n\nA little Scratch, the cutting of a Corn,\n\nHave fometimes done my Bu\u017fine\u017fs heretofore,\n\nSo to the full, that I need wi\u017fh no more.\n\nShould all the\u017fe fail, enough of Humours lurk,\n\nWithin your Bodies, Sir, to do my Work.\n\nBlind Man.\n\nWell then, let \u017fome one run for my Phy\u017fician,\n\nTell him I was his Aid in this Condition.\n\nDeath.\n\nRun Boy and fetch him, call the whole College now\n\nFor I intend to have them \u017fhortly too.\n\nI value not their Potions nor their Pills,\n\nNor all the Cordials in the Doctors Bills:\n\nWhen my Times come, let then do what they can,\n\nI'll have my due, \u017fo vain a Thing is Man,\n\nShould Galen and Hippocrates both join,\n\nAnd Paracel\u017fus with them too combine,\n\nLet them all meet to countermine my Strength,\n\nYet they \u017fhall be my Pris'ners all at length\n\nI grant that Men of learning, worth and Art,\n\nMay have the better of me at the Start:\n\nBut in long Running they'll give out and tire,\n\nAnd quite the Field and leave me my De\u017fire,\n\nAs for tho\u017fe Quakes, who threaten to undo me,\n\nThey are my Friends, and \u017fpeed \u017fome Patients to me\n\nBlind Man.\n\nWell, if I muft, I will yield you the Day,\n\nSo 'tis enacted, and I mu\u017ft obey:\n\nHenceforth I'll count my\u017felf among your Debitors,\n\nFor tis I \u017fee the Mea\u017fure of my betters.\n\nBut\nBut tell me now, when did your Pow'r commence.\n\nDeath.\n\nMy Power began from Adam's fir\u017ft Offence,\n\nBlind Man.\n\nFrom Adam's fir\u017ft Offence! O ba\u017fe Beginning,\n\nWho\u017fe very fir\u017ft Original was Sinning.\n\nDeath.\n\nMy Ri\u017fing did from Adam's fall begin,\n\nAnd ever \u017fince my Strength and Sting from Sin.\n\nBlind Man\n\nTo know wherein the En\u2019mies Strength doth lie,\n\nIn my Conceit its half the Victory.\n\nHave you Commi\u017f\u017fion now for what you do?\n\nDeath,\n\nYes, I Commi\u017f\u017fion have, what's that to you.\n\nBlind Man.\n\nYes, very much for now I under\u017ftand.\n\nI am not altogether at your Command:\n\nMy Life's at his, who gave you the Commi\u017f\u017fion,\n\nTo him I'll therefore go with my Petition;\n\nI'll \u017feek his Love and in his Mercy tru\u017ft,\n\nAnd when my Sins are Pardon'd do your wor\u017ft.\n\nDeath.\n\nThat you may know how far my Pow'r extends,\n\nI will divorce you from your deare\u017ft Friends;\n\nYou \u017fhall re\u017fign your Jewels, Money, Plate,\n\nYour earthly Joys \u017fhall be out of Date;\n\nI will deprive you of your dainty Fare,\n\nAnd \u017ftrip you to the Skin, naked and bare;\n\nLinnen or Woolen you \u017fhall have to wind you,\n\nAs for the re\u017ft, all mu\u017ft be left behind you.\n\nBound Hand and Foot, I'll bring you to my Den,\n\nWhere con\u017ftant dreadful Darkne\u017fs reigns, and then\n\nYour only dwelling Hou\u017fe \u017fhall be a Cave,\n\nYour lodging Room a little narrow Grave;\n\nA Che\u017ft your Clo\u017fet, and a Sheet your Dre\u017fs,\n\nAnd your Companions Worms and Rottennefs.\n\nBlind\n\nBlind Man.\n\nIf this be all the Mi\u017fchief thou can do\n\nYour Harbingers deserve more dread than you,\n\nDi\u017fea\u017fes are your Harbingers, I'm \u017fure,\n\nMany of which are grievous to endure;\n\nBut when once dead, I \u017fhall not then complain,\n\nof Cold or Hunger, Poverty or Pain.\n\nDeath.\n\nThere's one Thing more which I to Mind do call,\n\nWhen once I come, then come I once for all;\n\nAnd when my \u017ftroke doth Soul and Body \u017fever,\n\nWhat's left undone; mu\u017ft be undone forever.\n\nBlind Man.\n\nThat is a great Truth, which I've learn'd to know,\n\nThere is no working in the Grave below,\n\nTo be before Hand therefore will I try.\n\nThat then I may have nought to do but die.\n\nBut tell me, Sir, do all Men die alike?\n\nDeath.\n\nTo me they do, for whom God bids I \u017ftrike;\n\nLook how the Fooli\u017fh die, \u017fo die the Wi\u017fe,\n\nAs do the Righteous, \u017fo the Sinner dies:\n\nThe greate\u017ft Difference will be hereafter,\n\nBut that's a Thing which is beyond my Charter;\n\nThat I to \u017fome prove better, to \u017fome wor\u017fe,\n\nTo \u017fome a Bleffing, and to fome a Cur\u017fe.\n\nThat's none of mine, I dare not undertake it,\n\n'Tis God'sAppointment and MensWorks that make it,\n\nHence 'tis that Sinners Troubles never cea\u017fe,\n\nBut the end of the upright Man is Peace.\n\nBlind Man.\n\nThere now remains but only one Thing more,\n\nWill not your Power be one Day out of Door?\n\nDeath.\n\nMuft I needs tell you, Sir, 'tis certain true,\n\nThere is a Death for me as well as you;\n\nAnd mines the wor\u017ft, for I mu\u017ft die for ever,\n\nYou may revive again, but I \u017fhall never,\n\nDeath\n\nDeath\n\nCome let that pa\u017fs, the kinder to appear,\n\nI will reveal a Secret in your Ear:\n\nThe Death of Chri\u017ft upon the painful Cro\u017fs,\n\nThat \u017feem'd to be my Gain, now proves my Lo\u017fs\n\nAll in his Hair the Strength of Samp\u017fon lay,\n\nAll with his Hair went Samp\u017fon's Strength away.\n\nI have no Strength, but what I had from Sin,\n\nI have no Sting, but what lies hid therein,\n\nChrift \u017fuffering Death to put this Sin away,\n\nHath made me his whom I \u017fuppos'd my Prey.\n\nMy Strength is now decayed, my Sting abated,\n\nMy Boldne\u017fs check'd, and my Dominions \u017ftated.\n\nAnd I am now both faint and feeble grown;\n\nMuch like to Samp\u017fon when his Hair was gone.\n\nIn my own Craft I was compleatly routed,\n\nMy jaws were broken and my Holders outed,\n\nWhat now I Catch, I have no Power to keep,\n\nMy very Name is changed from Death to Sleep\n\n'Tis true, I \u017feiz'd on Chri\u017ft, and brought him down,\n\nAnd bound him in a Pri\u017fon of my own;\n\nBut all my \u017ftronge\u017ft Doors, Bars, Bolts and Bands\n\nWere but meer nothing to his mighty Hands,\n\nHe broke thro' all and left the Door quite ope,\n\nAnd all his Servants Pri\u017foners of Hope;\n\nFor tho' they die, yet with devout Affection,\n\nThey do expect a joyful Re\u017furrection;\n\nAnd with their Ma\u017fter to be brought again,\n\nThat they with him may evermore remain.\n\nThus Chri\u017ft by dying did become Victorious,\n\nAnd from his Bed of Darkne\u017fs ro\u017fe more glorious;\n\nAnd I by binding him made my \u017felf fa\u017ft.\n\nAnd his, I know, will prove my Death at la\u017ft.\n\nBlind Man.\n\nThe\u017fe Words give Comfort and In\u017ftruction too,\n\nHenceforth I \u017fhall be better pleas'd with you,\n\nDecreed it is for all Men once to die,\n\nAfter that Judgment, then Eternity.\n\nTo\nTo Prayer therefore will I join endeavour,\n\nSo to live here that I may live forever;\n\nAnd \u017feeing they that have and keep Chri\u017ft's Words,\n\nWhether they live or die be all the Lord's.\n\nRepentance, Faith and new Obedience \u017fhall,\n\nFit and prepare me for my Funeral;\n\nFrom whence I tru\u017ft my Saviour will tran\u017flate me,\n\nIn Sea\u017fon due, beyond their Reach that hate me,\n\nEven to that Place of Life and Glory too,\n\nWhere neither Death nor Sin hath ought to do.\n\nThis Hope in me, that Word of his doth cheri\u017fh,\n\nHe that believes in me \u017fhall never peri\u017fh.\n\nNow welcome Death upon my Saviour's Score,\n\nWho would not die to live forevermore?\n\nDeath.\n\nSir, I perceive you \u017fpeak not without Rea\u017fon;\n\nI'll leave you now, and call another Sea\u017fon.\n\nBlind Man\n\nCall when you plea\u017fe, I will await that Call,\n\nAnd while I \u017ftand make ready for my Fall;\n\nIn the mean Time my con\u017ftant Prayers \u017fhall be,\n\nFrom Sudden and from endle\u017fs Death\n\nGood Lord deliver me.\n\nJudge not of Death by \u017fen\u017fe, lea\u017ft you mi\u017ftake it,\n\nDeath's neither Friend nor Foe, but as you make it,\n\nLive as you \u017fhould, you need not to complain,\n\nFor where to live is Chri\u017ft, to die is Gain.\n\nMercy and Grace by Heavenly Power\n\nCan make the vile\u017ft Wretch on Earth,\n\nFor\u017fake his Sins and Chri\u017ft implore,\n\nTo Crown him with a \u017fecond Birth.\n\nSo Bunyan once lay wallowing in the Mire,\n\n'Till Grace and Mercy \u017fet his Heart on Fire,\n\nDrew him from hence with Bands of Dying Love,\n\nAnd Crown'd the Pilgrims Head with Joys above,\n\nJoys which a thou\u017fand Deaths will recompence,\n\nJoys which, like God, are la\u017fting and immen\u017fe.\n\nTHE\n\nTHE\n\nGreat A\u017f\u017fize\n\nOR,\n\nCHRIST's Certain and Sudden\n\nAppearance to Judgment.\n\nJOB xiv. 2, 3\n\nMan that is born of a Woman is of few Days and full of Trouble: He cometh forth like a Flower, and is cut down; be flieth al\u017fo like a shadow, and continueth not.\n\nO That poor Earthly Mortals would attend,\n\nWith Seriou\u017fne\u017fs of Mind to what is penn'd,\n\nHere is pre\u017fented clearly to the Eye,\n\nA little World new made mo\u017ft gloriou\u017fly.\n\nTo Day here \u017ftands proud Man, like flowers \u017fprite,\n\nBut look To-morrow, and he is wither'd quite:\n\nHow happy might poor fallen Man have liv'd\n\nFor ever, had he not his Maker griev'd;\n\nHis num'rous Off-\u017fpring never would e\u017fpy,\n\nThro' that black curtain of Mortality.\n\nHe might di\u017fdain A\u017f\u017faults, al\u017fo defie\n\nGrim Death; but now, alas! he's born to die.\n\nDu\u017ft mu\u017ft to Du\u017ft, faid God upon his Fall,\n\nEntailing of that Sentence on us all:\n\nPolluted nat'rally with that foul Sin,\n\nWhich did in Adam and poor Eve begin.\n\nAlas!\nAlas! how \u017fwift the Days of Man pa\u017fs by:\n\nSwifter then Weaver's Shuttle do they fly:\n\nAs foon as Death doth end his Days, \u017fo \u017foon\n\nMan mu\u017ft appear before the great Tribune,\n\nDeath will no Favour to a King afford,\n\nNor Difference make 'twixt Beggar and a Lord;\n\nBeauty nor Riches, Favour will obtain,\n\nHe'll take no Bribes to mitigate their Pain,\n\nNor Florid Language can him \u017fatisfie,\n\nFor Death will tell him that he's born to die;\n\nNo Difference with Age and Youth he makes,\n\nBut each alike of Death participates.\n\nYou find Methu\u017falem by Death was told,\n\nThat die he mu\u017ft though he was ne'er \u017fo old;\n\nLike Fruit when almo\u017ft ripe, Storms can it \u017fhake,\n\nSo Youth when almo\u017ft Man, Death may him take.\n\nSearch you Death's Lime Pits, and you'll find therein\n\nAs many young Steers, as the ox's Skin.\n\nOf all Things here certain unto Man's Eye,\n\nNothings' more certain than he's born to die.\n\nThe Sinner tru\u017fting to bis Riches.\n\nAnd yet how proud's a Man this \u017fide the Grave,\n\nAs if he never \u017fhould an Exit have!\n\nBoa\u017fting, poor Worm, of an uncertain World,\n\nHis bu\u017fie carping Thoughts with care are hurl'd,\n\n'Till wealthy grown, proud of his Bags of Trea\u017fures\n\nHe tru\u017fts in Riches, taking all the Plea\u017fure,\n\nHis Heart cap wi\u017fh for; nay, he does controul\n\nThe Checks of Con\u017fcience to his precious Soul:\n\nSays to him\u017felf, Soul take this Ea\u017fe and \u017fpend\n\nThy Time in Mirth, ne'er think 'twill have an End.\n\nThus, thus the Sinner does abu\u017fe his God,\n\nAnd choo\u017fes Vice in\u017ftead of Virtues Road:\n\nHe Swears and Damns, and imprecates God's Wrath,\n\nTo \u017ftrike him Dead\u00a0; but ah! to Death he's loath.\n\nHe damns; his very Soul, is it not ju\u017ft,\n\nThat\nThat God \u017fhould do \u017fo too, and \u017fay, be cur\u017ft.\n\nRoaring and ranting is his helli\u017fh Note;\n\nQuaffing \u017fo long, until his Sen\u017fes float;\n\nDrunk like a Beast, he \u017ftaggers up and down,\n\nSleeps like a Hog, and is a Devil grown.\n\nBut oh! if God thus anger'd ready be,\n\nTo \u017fay, thou Fool I do require of thee\n\nThy Soul this Night, come give a ju\u017ft Account,\n\nTo what thy Steward\u017fhip does now amount\u00a0;\n\nHow dumb and \u017fen\u017fele\u017fs would he \u017ftand to fee,\n\nHell ready to devour him pre\u017fently:\n\nFruitle\u017fs would be his \u017fearch to find a Place,\n\n'Mong Rocks to hide him from God's angry Face.\n\nFor Flinty Rocks, and Natures Hills that \u017foar\n\nTheir Towering Heads fo high, will be no \u017fhore,\n\nAnd all Things vani\u017fh by God's \u017fov'reign Pow'r.\n\nOld Age with its Troubles.\n\nBut now \u017fuppo\u017fe God \u017fuffers him to live,\n\nAdds Mercy unto Mercy, and does give,\n\nHim yet a longer Time of Life and tries\n\nIf he'll repent before Death \u017fhut his Eyes.\n\nHe fees that Life runs round like to a Wheel,\n\nAnd wrinkled Years upon his Brows do \u017fteal;\n\nBe\u017fides gray Hairs upon his Head do grow,\n\nScatter'd it lies like to a drift of Snow.\n\nA foggy Dimne\u017fs doth his Eyes a\u017f\u017fail,\n\nSinking into his Head his Eyes they fail;\n\nHis Tongue does faulter, and his Hands they \u017fhake,\n\nAnd with the Pal\u017fie every Limb doth quake:\n\nHis \u017ftaggering Billows cannot \u017ftand at all;\n\nHis Hou\u017fe is \u017fo decay'd tis near to fall;\n\nHis Age brings with it Sickne\u017fs and Di\u017fea\u017fe;\n\nHis Limbs \u017fo feeble are, \u017feek \u017fluggi\u017fh Ea\u017fe;\n\nHis Plea\u017fure's gone, it doth him \u017fore annoy,\n\nTo think of Youth's Delight and former Joy:\n\nHis Mind doth Dream of Death before his Eyes,\n\nAnd Death's pale Image doth his Soul \u017furprize.\n\nGod's\n\nGod's Mercy abus'd, Death \u017fent.\n\nHis Gla\u017fs ju\u017ft run, he's even out of Breath,\n\nReady to yield his Life to conquering Death,\n\nWho will no longer Favour his old Age,\n\nBut is re\u017folved in his Death t'engage;\n\nIt peeps behind the Curtain in his Face,\n\nAnd draws the \u017fame then dreadful is his Ca\u017fe;\n\nHis Tongue doth faulter and his Veins they \u017ftart\n\nLike Sticks a\u017funder, nay his very Heart\n\nCea\u017feth its Motion, and his Virals gone;\n\nSo that at la\u017ft he's colder than a Stone:\n\nHis Kinsfolk dear his dying Eyes do \u017fhut,\n\nAnd for his Bed into a Coffin put.\n\nBut when his Soul hath parted clean away,\n\nAnd left the Body like a lump of Clay,\n\nThe Carca\u017fe is no colder than the Love,\n\nof Wife and Friends, who do forgetful prove,\n\nAnd 'cau\u017fe he cannot go he's carried forth,\n\nAccompany'd with all his Friends of Worth:\n\nHir'd Mourners \u017fhow his Years and Pomp \u017fo brave,\n\nConvey him to his cold and \u017fad like Grave;\n\nBut when they come to Death's pale Habitation,\n\nAnd \u017fees the Pit which gape with De\u017folation,\n\nThey throw the naked Coffin in, of all\n\nHis Freinds, not one for Love will with him fall\n\nAll get them gone, he \u017ftill alone doth ly,\n\nA rotten Worm-bait, Tale of Mortality.\n\nThe Vanity of his Wealth.\n\nThus ends his earthly Splendor and his plea\u017fure.\n\nWife, Children, Kinsfolk and his Bags of Trea\u017fure,\n\nAre left behind to hold the \u017fame E\u017ftate\n\nA little while, but Follow mu\u017ft his Fate:\n\nNay they're not fure t'enjoy it half a Day,\n\nFor Death doth oft \u017fweep Families away.\n\nThe Infant's in\u017ftantly depriv'd of's Mother,\n\nHusband from's Wife, the Si\u017fter from her Brother\n\nChildren\nChildren in Cradles often feel the \u017fmart,\n\nOf conquering Death the King of Terrors Dart,\n\nTherefore, O Man, why are thou overjoy'd,\n\nWhen all thou ha\u017ft may quickly be de\u017ftroy'd,\n\nIf any \u017ftormy blaft of Sickne\u017fs blow,\n\nAll Features pa\u017f\u017feth like a Minute \u017fhow,\n\nAlas, poor Worm, what Thing can thou call thine,\n\nBut \u017fudden Death may quickly \u017fay 'tis mine:\n\nBehold thy Frailty! See thy Gla\u017fs does run!\n\nTherefore repent before the Time is gone.\n\nBoth Young and Old have this before your Eye,\n\nYou're born to Happine\u017fs or Mi\u017fery.\n\nThink at Chri\u017ft's coming, you mu\u017ft then ari\u017fe\n\nAnd there be judged at the Great A\u017f\u017fize.\n\nMatth. xxiv. 14. Watch therefore, for you know not what Hour the Lord doth come.\n\nThe Manner of Chri\u017ft's coming.\n\nSerene, like as the Days of Noah were,\n\nSo\u017fhall the coming of our Lord appear:\n\nEating and Drinking they will merry make,\n\nAnd carnal Souls Security will take,\n\nJu\u017ft like a Theif who cometh in the Night,\n\nSo will the Son of Man in Glory bright,\n\nCome down with numerous Angels, and the \u017found\n\nOf Trumpets \u017fhril, unnerving thus the Ground,\n\nYe Dead ari\u017fe; Lord what a Horror here\n\nIs to the Wicked, who mu\u017ft \u017frtaight appear,\n\nAnd come to Judgment! O how this begins,\n\nTo bring to mind their many wretched Sins.\n\nCon\u017fcience immediately appears and mu\u017ft\n\nBe the \u017fad Soul's accu\u017fing Witne\u017fs fir\u017ft;\n\nHanging their Heads, cannot endure the Shocks,\n\nof God's revenging Wrath, then to the Rocks,\n\nThey run in vain, mo\u017ft mi\u017ferable Elves,\n\nTo \u017feek fome \u017fhelt'ring Place to hide them\u017felves.\n\nThen are they \u017feparated as they \u017ftand.\n\nThe\nThe Goats i'th' left, the Sheepat Chri\u017ft's right Hand\n\nO! the \u017fad Shriechs they make, the rueful cries,\n\nTo \u017fee Hell gaping ju\u017ft before there Eyes!\n\nThe Heavens melt away with fervent Heat,\n\nThe Earth is burning underneath our Feet:\n\nThc Books are opened, judged now they mu\u017ft,\n\nCondemned next, then are pronounced cur\u017ft.\n\nThe ble\u017f\u017fed Eftate of the Godly.\n\nBut happy, ever happy are the Sheep\n\nof Chri\u017ft, who Joy for forevermore will reap,\n\nWhen he \u017fhall \u017fay to's Saints, Come, come ye thither,\n\nYou of my cho\u017fen Flock ble\u017ft of my Father;\n\nThe Kingdom now enjoy, for you prepar'd,\n\nBefore the world was made and Heavens rear'd\n\nO what Soul-ravi\u017fhing \u017fweet News is this!\n\nAngels attend him pre\u017fently to bli\u017fs,\n\nWith Glory crown'd, eternally they \u017fing,\n\nHo\u017fannahs to their Heavenly Lord and King:\n\nRivers of joy before their Eyes run by,\n\nOceans of Plea\u017fure to Eternity,\n\nCloathed with Robes, \u017fhining like Ja\u017fper stone,\n\nThey fing Chri\u017ft's Prai\u017fes on his heavenly Throne,\n\nAngels attend the\u017fe Saints, and what is more,\n\nJoy hath no ead, but la\u017fts for evermore,\n\nThe Mi\u017ferable State of the Wicked.\n\nBut hark! what Grief the damned does attend,\n\nWho have no Advocate to \u017ftand their Friend,\n\nSentence mu\u017ft paffed be, Go, go to dwell,\n\nIn endle\u017fs burning in the Lake of Hell;\n\nDepart with Devils who did you entice\n\nTo hate your Saviour, and to cleave to Vice;\n\nGo to that everlafting Pit, and ly,\n\nHowling with Fiery Fiends perpetually\n\no what a wretched sight't will be to \u017fee,\n\nThe Devils dragging them to Mifery?\n\nHusbands to \u017fee their Wives convey'd to bli\u017fs,\n\nWhil\u017ft\nWhil\u017ft they with damned Souls Salvation mi\u017fs:\n\nSon from the Father, Father from the Son,\n\nMu\u017ft feparated be i' th' Day of Doom,\n\nPrai\u017fing of God, and own it to be ju\u017ft,\n\nThere own Relations are with Devils cur\u017ft,\n\nThe Godly they to Heaven take their Flight,\n\nWhil\u017ft Wicked take their Cour\u017fe to Hell outright.\n\nLord let us watch continually and pray,\n\nThat we may be prepar'd for that great Day;\n\nGive us Repentance that while here we live,\n\nWe may the Offers of his Grace receive;\n\nAnd feed our Souls, O God with thy free Grace,\n\nThat we may \u017ftand before our Saviours Face;\n\nO grant that when the Force of Death we try,\n\nWe may cry out where is thy Victory?\n\nAnd mounting up to thee, with joy may \u017fing,\n\noh gloomy Grave where is thy bitter Sting?\n\nFINIS.\n\nThis work was published before January 1, 1931, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.\n\nPublic domainPublic domainfalsefalse","title":"Dialogue between a blind man and death","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":3812}