Lot In Sodom

Poem By John Newton

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 pris'ner he was quickly made,
Bereaved of all his store;
And, but for Abraham's timely aid,
He had returned no more.

Yet still he seemed resolved to stay
As if it were his rest;
Although their sins from day to day
His righteous soul distressed.

Awhile he stayed with anxious mind,
Exposed to scorn and strife;
At last he left his all behind,
And fled to save his life.

In vain his sons-in-law he warned,
They thought he told his dreams;
His daughters too, of them had learned,
And perished in the flames.

His wife escaped a little way,
But died for looking back:
Does not her case to pilgrims say,
Beware of growing slack?

Yea; Lot himself could ling'ring stand,
Though vengeance was in view;
'Twas mercy plucked him by the hand,
Or he had perished too.

The doom of Sodom wilt be ours
If to the earth we cleave;
Lord quicken all our drowsy pow'rs,
To flee to thee and live.

Comments about Lot In Sodom

There is no comment submitted by members.


Rating Card

2,7 out of 5
26 total ratings

Other poems of NEWTON

Amazing Grace

Amazing grace! (how sweet the sound!)
That sav'd a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.

A Friend That Sticketh Closer Than A Brother

One there is, above all others,
Well deserves the name of friend;
His is love beyond a brother's,
Costly, free, and knows no end:

Cain And Abel

When Adam fell he quickly lost
God's image, which he once possessed:
See All our nature since could boast

Adam

On man, in his own image made,
How much did GOD bestow?
The whole creation homage paid,
And owned him LORD, below!

Ephesus

Thus saith the Lord to Ephesus,
And thus he speaks to some of us;
Amidst my churches, lo, I stand,
And hold the pastors in my hand.

A Sick Soul

Physician of my sin-sick soul,
To thee I bring my case;
My raging malady control,
And heal me by thy grace.