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How hurtful was the choice of Lot,

who took up his abode,

because it was a fruitful spot,

with them who feared not God!


A prisoner he was quickly made,

bereaved of all is store;

and, but for Abraham’s timely aid,

he had returned for more.


Yet still he seemed resolved to stay,

as if it were his rest;

although their sins from day to day

his righteousness distressed.


A while he stayed with anxious mind,

exposed to scorn and strife;

at last he left this all behind,

and fled to save his life.


In vain his sons-in-law he warned,

they thought he told them dreams;

his daughters, too, of them had learned,

and perished in the flames.


His wife escaped a little way,

but did for looking back;

does not her case to pilgrims say,

“Beware of growing slack”?


Yea, Lot himself could lingering stand,

though vengeance was in view;

‘twas mercy plucked him by the hand,

or he had perished too.


The doom of Sodom will be ours,

if to the earth we cleave;

Lord, quicken all our drowsy powers,

to flee to Thee and live.


-J. Newton

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