Songs 17

¹Rulers of Sodom! hear the voice

of heav’n’s eternal Lord;

Men of Gomorrah! bend your ear

submissive to his word.

²’Tis thus he speaks: To what intent

are your oblations vain?

Why load my altars with your gifts,

polluted and profane?

³Burnt‐off’rings long may blaze to heav’n,

and incense cloud the skies;

The worship and the worshipper

are hateful in my eyes.

⁴Your rites, your fasts, your pray’rs, I scorn,

and pomp of solemn days:

I know your hearts are full of guile,

and crooked are your ways.

⁵But cleanse your hands, ye guilty race,

and cease from deeds of sin;

Learn in your actions to be just,

and pure in heart within.

⁶Mock not my name with honours vain,

but keep my holy laws;

Do justice to the friendless poor,

and plead the widow’s cause.

⁷Then though your guilty souls are stain’d

with sins of crimson dye,

Yet, through my grace, with snow itself

in whiteness they shall vie.