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 prisoner 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.