Dark Brood the Heav’ns o’er Thee

Dark brood the heav’ns o’er thee

Black clouds are gath’ring fast;

In aw­ful pow­er thy God has come

Thy days of mirth are past.

Dark brood the heav’ns o’er thee

Red flames are burst­ing round;

Bright light­nings flash

loud thun­ders roar

How shakes the trem­bling ground!

Dark brood the heav’ns o’er thee

Behold

the Judge ap­pears;

Unnumbered mill­ions throng around

Raised from the dust of years.

Dark brood the heav’ns o’er thee

Soon thou wilt hear thy doom;

Destruction op­ens wide for thee

Thy chos­en

fi­nal home.

Yet wait

the vi­sion stays;

Why sin­ner

wilt thou die?

Dark brood the heav’ns—but mer­cy waits;

This hour to Je­sus fly!