SRANGE things they tell, which late befell In this great famous place; How many fell in ways to hell- In ruin and disgrace!

The Christian's name, they did profane, As such they did profess; Oh what shame t'abuse that name, In deeds of wickedness!

But do not blame Religion's name, Tho' thousand Pompeys fall; False members are not very rare- The number is not small.

You may rely that sodomy Is a provoking sin- Oh what a shame the crime to name; What judgments may it bring!

It is declar'd they shan't be spar'd, That's guilty of this crime; Their lives must pay, the Lord did say, In days of former time.

Oh sinners turn, God's wrath will burn, Upon this guilty land; Turn and confess your wickedness, Before your Judge you'll stand.

Vice now prevails, and virtue fails, And piety decays- Sin doth abound in this great town, In all unright'ous ways.

We must confess our wickedness, Is now exceeding great; And sin-and sin's the very thing, Which GOD himself doth hate.

Oh mortals hear! don't laugh and sneer At RELIGION'S godlike name, Because some few that never knew, Its sacred vital flame:

Whose whole intent on sin are bent- All goodness they pretend; In RELIGION's cloak, they wrap them up, And call themselves its friend.

But heaven displays a thousand ways, To bring their sins to light; Some pious mind we often find- Makes it his chief delight.

Let us beware sin's fatal snare, And shun each filthy lust; Let Pompey's fall now warn us all, Not in ourselves to trust.