Behold! with Awful Pomp

Behold! with aw­ful pomp

The Judge pre­pares to come

Th’arch­an­gel sounds the dread­ful trump

And wakes the ge­ne­ral doom.

Nature

in wild am­aze

Her dis­so­lu­tion mourns;

Blushes of blood the moon de­face

The sun to dark­ness turns.

The liv­ing look with dread;

The fright­ed dead arise—

Start from the mon­ument­al bed

And lift their ghast­ly eyes.

Horrors all hearts ap­pall;

They quake

they shriek

they cry;

Bid rocks and mount­ains on them fall

But rocks and mount­ains fly.

Ye will­ful wan­ton fools

Let dan­ger make you wise

Carnal pro­fess­ors

care­less souls

Unclose your la­zy eyes.

’Tis time we all awake

The dread­ful day draws near;

Sinners

your pro­found pre­sump­tion check

And stop your wild ca­reer.

Now is th’ac­cept­ed time;

To Christ for mer­cy fly;

O turn

re­pent

and trust in Him

And you shall nev­er die.

Great God

in whom we live

Prepare us for that day;

Help us in Je­sus to be­lieve

To watch

and wait

and pray.