If angels in the heavens rejoices
O’er one returning soul,
Who, broke from iron bonds of vice,
Treads back to Virtue’s goal,
What power shall greet with demon laugh,
The spoiler’s deed of hell,
Who bids the rescued drunkard quaff
The cup by which he fell?
The execration of the just,
The world’s united scorn,
Be on that shameless child of list,
Perdition’s foulest spawn,
Who lures the wretched being back,
That once escaped his door,
Swathing in darkness doubly black,
The soul he stained before.
Wo, wo to him, who lifteth up
To his weak brother’s lip
The demon’s sacramental cup,
Hell’s seal of fellowship.
Its every drop shall yet return
With fires of vengeance red,
And through the eternal midnight, burn
On his devoted head.
And tenfold woes his soul await,
Who tempts the rescued back
From virtue’s strait and narrow gate,
To error’s devious track.
The burnings of the nether pit,
Outdone by flames within,
Fires in the tortured bosom lit
By self-avenging sin.
The Tempter