“A rod for the fool’s back.” Prov. 26. 3; 10. 13
J. Berridge 112th
I wonder not if giddy men
Run roving all the world about,
Pursuing folly with much pain,
And wearied oft, yet give not out;
The world must be their fluttering aim,
Who see no charm in Jesus’ name.
Yet none so foolish are and base,
As those who’ve felt the legal lash,
And having tasted gospel-grace,
Good manna leave for earthly trash;
When such from wisdom’s teaching start,
A rod shall make their shoulders smart.
In vain they seek the world’s relief;
The Lord will weary them with woe,
And lash them well with grief on grief,
With rods and stinging scorpions too;
They drink of every bitter cup,
Till, sick, they cast their idols up.
My heart, too, after idols sought,
And rovèd from the gospel track;
And by such rovings I have brought
A thousand stripes upon my back;
Lord, take my foolish heart at last,
And guide it right, and hold it fast.