Sin! wilt thou vanquish me! And shall I yield the victory? Shall all my joys be spoil'd, And pleasures soil'd By thee! Shall I remain As one that's slain And never more lift up the head? Is not my Saviour dead! His blood, thy bane, my balsam, bliss, joy, wine; Shall thee destroy; heal, feed, make me divine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE'S SECRET, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE VANITY OF THE WORLD by FRANCIS QUARLES THE BALLAD OF READING GAOL by OSCAR WILDE THE WORLD'S WAY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |