Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/126

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114

To morrow I set sail again Not to the Negroe shore—Wretch that I am I will at least Commit that sin no more.
O give me comfort if you can— Oh tell me where to fly—And bid me hope, if there be hope, For one so lost as I.
Poor wretch, the stranger he replied, Put thou thy trust in heaven,And call on him for whose dear sake All sins shall be forgiven.
This night at least is thine, go thou And seek the house of prayer,There shalt thou hear the word of God And he will help thee there!
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