The Reflection. WHere gilde my thoughts, rash inclinations stay, And let me think what 'tis you fool away, Stay ere it be to late, yet stay and take, A short review of the great prize at stake. Oh! stupid folly 'tis eternal Joy, That I'm about to barter for a toy; It is my God oh dreadful hazard where, Shall I again the boundless loss repair! It is my Soul a Soul that cost the blood, And painful agonies of an humbled God, Oh blest occasion made me stay to think, Ere I was hurri'd off the dangerous brink, Should I have took the charming venom in, And cop'd with all these terrors for a sin, How equal had my condemnation been?