The Sorrows Of Sin
by DANIEL MBAJIORGU
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THE SORROWS OF SIN
The sorrows of Sin, how weighty! Her woes,
Deep as an abyss, longer than the sea;
For the loss of Eden, fair as a rose,
No loss can compare for her great glory.
Her land was picturesque, serene and blest,
Of richest granaries, of baskets full;
Toiled Adam little, untroubled his rest,
And all God's creatures, this man did rule.
And lo! When quickly Sin in him was found,
When from Eden's midst the tree he ate,
Hell was let loose and Man's fate turned around;
And by God's curse Man lost his first estate.
Nine hundred and thirty years Adam knew;
His years were many; Man's years became few.
What compares to Sin as Man's chiefest foe,
Whose cruel curses do mar his days; inflames
At death, with fury great, a wage or woe
That damns his soul amidst eternal flames.
And like an asp's venoms, so she doth choke
And make futile the ceaseless toils of men -
Which incur God's wrath, for Him they provoke -
All through Man's life, those three score years and ten,
Or more, if by strength, on and on, he goes,
With grief for garlands and troubles for cloak,
Till he fades away like a blossomed rose,
Fleeting as vapour, temporal as smoke.
But God lives on and His word cannot lie:
The soul that sinneth verily shall die.
Would thou say His judgement's unjust, or blame
Him, Whose ways are right, the only God wise,
Who, from the sun's rising, and till the same
Goes down, ceaseless praises unto Him rise:
'Holy, holy, is the Lord', angels hymn
Above; who being holy best describe
God's awesome purity; to eyes which Sin
Cannot behold all excellence ascribe.
With pillars of justice His throne He made;
Transparent as glass, here, He sits. How bright,
And firm, His court's foundations, which He laid
With righteousness; Himself, He draped in light.
Would thou complain, O mortal man, and why;
Does God's attributes Him not justify?
The ox, his owner, knows; the dog, his way,
Can find; but Man, his Maker, can't obey.
If Sin be the transgression of the Law,
To punish it, then, becomes meet and right
With God, Who perfectly, doth Sin abhor;
In Him, no darkness dwells, for He is light.
Or shall the great King His subjects not rule,
The Maker, His handiwork, not direct,
For Man through rebellion became a fool,
And to the Devil became he subject,
When nothing in Heaven or Earth made Him,
God, in His image and likeness, save Man,
To their envy, the Fallen Cherubim,
And the Serpent, whose plot was Man to damn.
None prideth more in empty boasts, all night,
All day; or labours most with borrowed time,
As well, with borrowed breath and will and might,
Than Man; who's wont to think, 'This world is mine'.
His feeble frame how frail; till six feet low
He's laid; noiseless and as small as a mite;
Whom did strut, like cocks, while his fluids did flow,
Least aware that Life's as brief as the Night.
For such was Herod King in royal robe,
Who sat upon the throne; whose speech of pride
Did God provoke, that worms they ate him up;
His glory vain and majesty? They died.
But God considers Man, that he is nought,
His bowels of compassion shuts He not.
As Adam failed, so do his children, too,
In that lone duty: their God to obey;
For great is Obedience, a prime virtue,
By which Man's love is made perfect each day.
For Hope, suff'ring long, bears the worst disease,
And Faith, adamant-strong, moves mountains tall,
And though, Love, of these three, the greatest is;
Obedience remains the sum of them all.
Did not the Preacher, King with a mind deep,
Sum it up that Man's all is: God to fear
Yea, with trembling, and His commandments keep,
All through Man's days, his brief appointment here.
Lift her high, magnify, O, mystify,
Before Obedience Sin must face-down lie.
Thou proud creation of our God, sing yea,
While His breath still stirs you to move about;
Ye, who have a chance to be saved Today;
Sing like robins, hoot like owls; dance and shout.
For if Salvation to Demons He gave,
Quick they would grab, and earnestly hold fast;
Not for angels, but men, He died to save,
See what manner of love for men God hast!
Let the wicked forsake his evil ways,
Let him call on God while He may be found,
If he'd be willing, his God he obeys,
He’ll eat the good of the land and abound;
For God is good, He'll graciously pardon,
Who no pleasure takes when a sinner's gone.
The Adversary desires Man's soul to win,
But if any shall come, God will take in.
Shall not the Judge of all the Earth do right,
Him, Who did reckon that Man is as dust,
And clothing Himself with zeal and great might,
Redeemed Man at such a terrible cost.
No greater love can any ever give!
For before Man was framed, God's Lamb was slain,
God's only Son, God gave that Man might live!
Immoral as Esau; stubborn as Cain;
Frail as Man is; God's love remains the same:
If any shall turn and rebel no more
God will pardon and generate again;
Lo! He stands with Salvation at the door.
With Him reconcile while He's near; curse not,
O Moral Agent; thy fate, thou, must plot.
No garden like Eden had trees for cloak,
None was replete with myriad fruits so sweet;
And here, to Adam, God cheerily spoke:
''The tree in Eden's midst, thou, must not eat''.
Was God's law burdensome, were God's words veiled,
One tree denied He him, of trees countless,
Was that a Heavy Cross for Man who failed,
Who lost his estate and all blessedness?
God's easy to live with, Man must admit;
His burdens are lightsome, they ne'er do choke;
Indeed, His Laws are not grievous to meet,
For His statutes are as an easy yoke.
How immutable, are Thy words, O God,
A strong anchor the soul hath found to hold;
Man's words, they lie, as slippery as the mud,
Thine O Lord's like Rock of Ages untold!
As honey from a comb, pleasant and sweet,
Are Thy laws and statutes Thy saints have found;
Such precious words esteemed Job more than meat
For therein Thy sure promises abound.
Thou by Thy living word hath all things made,
And by the selfsame word they all are tamed,
Yea, whilst the moon and stars their anthems bade,
Man's finest form, Thou wonderfully framed.
Thy word hast Thou exalted 'bove Thy name,
Thou, O Lord, Thou and Thy word are the same.
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