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The God of glory sends His summons forth,
To nations south and then awakes the north;
From east to west the sovereign orders spread,
Through distant worlds and regions of the dead:
No more shall atheists mock His long delay;
His vengeance sleeps no more: behold the day!
Behold, the Judge descends, His guards are nigh;
Tempest and fire attend Him down the sky:
“Heav’n, earth, and hell, draw near; let all things come
To hear My justice, and the sinner’s doom:
But gather first My saints,” the Judge commands,
“Bring them, ye angels, from their distant lands.
“Behold, My covenant stands for ever good,
Sealed by th’eternal Sacrifice in blood,
And signed with all their names; the Greek, the Jew,
That paid the ancient worship or the new,
“Here,” saith the Lord, “ye angels, spread their thrones,
And near me seat My favorites and My sons.
“I am their Savior, I th’Almighty God,
I am their Judge: ye heav’ns, proclaim abroad
My just eternal sentence, and declare
Those awful truths that sinners dread to hear:
Thou hypocrite, once dressed in saints’ attire,
I doom the painted hypocrite to fire.
“Not for the want of goats or bullocks slain
Do I condemn thee; bulls and goats are vain
Without the flame of love; in vain the store
Of brutal offerings that were Mine before;
Mine are the tamer beasts and savage breed,
Flocks, herds, and fields and forests where they feed.
“If I were hungry, would I ask thee food?
When did I thirst, or drink thy bullocks’ blood?
Can I be flattered with thy cringing bows,
Thy solemn chatterings and fantastic vows?
Are My eyes charmed thy vestments to behold,
Glaring in gems, and gay in woven gold?
“Unthinking wretch! how couldst thou hope to please
A God, a Spirit, with such toys as these,
While, with My grace and statutes on thy tongue,
Thou lov’st deceit, and dost thy brother wrong?
In vain to pious forms thy zeal pretends,
Thieves and adulterers are thy chosen friends.
“Silent I waited with long-suffering love,
But didst thou hope that I should ne’er reprove?
And cherish such an impious thought within,
That the All-Holy would indulge thy sin?
Behold My terrors now: My thunders roll,
And thy own crimes affright thy guilty soul.”
Sinners, awake betimes; ye fools, be wise;
Awake before this dreadful morning rise;
Change your vain thoughts, your crooked works amend,
Fly to the Savior, make the Judge your friend
Lest, like a lion, His last vengeance tear
Thy bleeding heart, and no deliverer near.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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10 10 10 10 11 11
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1719
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Bible Refs:
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Ps 50; Ps 50:4;
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MUSIC
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Name:
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YORKSHIRE
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Meter:
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10 10 10 10 10 10
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1750
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 76 | No key | | # 146 | Bb | | # 93 | C | | # 59 | C | | # 96 | C | | # 120 | C | | # 61 | D | | # 201 | No key |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
