'Saint John the Baptist' (poem) written by William Drummond

The last and the greatest Herald of Heaven's King,

Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild,

Among that savage brood the woods forth bring,

Which he more harmless found than man, and mild.


His food was locusts, and what there doth spring,

With honey that from virgin hives distill'd;

Parch'd body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing

Made him appear, long since from earth exiled.


There burst he forth: 'All ye whose hopes rely 

On God, with me amidst these deserts mourn,

Repent, repent,and from old errors turn!'

- Who listen'd to his voice, obey'd his cry?


Only the echoes, which he made relent,

Ring from their flinty caves, Repent! Repent!



  

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