Sweet Peace’s Prince, who once I did exile
A traitor to my soul, has now returned
To regal Restoration; to beguile
My treachery, He chastised me, but spurned
Me not; with kinder loving word He yearned
To reconcile. My Parliament adjourned,
To yield consented, what excuse have I
To let my vices turn my soul awry?
Since Peace’s Prince, the Counselor, is nigh,
My soul’s Protectorate is overthrown,
Its feeble Sessions all have come to die;
A failure of resistance here was shown.
Let reign that King whose blood for I was shed,
And by His Spirit, towards virtue led.
Flickr photo courtesy of vg8383 via Flickr