Account of the Life of Whitefield, Poem
I cannot better cloſe this Account of my LIFE, than with the following divine Poem by Mr. ADDISON.
I.
WHEN all thy Mercies, O my GOD,
MY riſing Soul ſurveys;
… with the View, I'm loſt
…, Love and Praiſe.
II.
… equal Warmth
…
… Heart?
V.
…-number'd Comforts to my Soul
Thy tender Care beſtow'd,
Before my infant Heart conceiv'd
From whom thoſe Comforts flow'd
VI.
When in the ſlipp'ry Paths of Truth,
With heedleſs Steps I ran;
Thine Arm unſeen convey'd me ſafe,
And led me up to Man.
VII.
Through hidden Dangers, Toils and Death,
It gently clear'd my Way;
And through the pleaſing Snares of Vice
More to be fear'd than they.
VIII.
When worn with Sickneſs, oft haſt th…
With Health renew'd my Face;
And when in Sin and Sorrow ſunk,
Reviv'd my Soul with Grace.
IX.
Ten thouſand thouſand precious Gifts,
My daily Thanks employ:
Nor is the leaſt a chearful Heart,
That taſtes thoſe Gifts with Joy.
X.
Through … Period of my Life,
Thy Goodneſs I'll …;
And after …
The …. The ….
XI.
When … Day and Night
Divide … no more;
My ever-grateful Heart, O LORD!
Thy Mercy ſhall ….
XII.
Through all … to …,
A joyful … I'll raiſe
… Eternity's too ſhort,
… all thy Praiſe.
FINIS.
End of the text · George Whitefield, Account of the Life of Whitefield (1740)