From Whence These Dire Portents Around? (Charles)

From whence these dire por­tents around

That strike us with un­wont­ed fear?

Why do these earth­quakes rock the ground

And threat­en our de­struct­ion near?

Ye pro­phets smooth

the cause ex­plain

And lull us to re­pose again.

Or wa­ter swell­ing for a vent

Or air im­pa­tient to get free

Or fire with­in earth’s en­trails pent;

Yet all are or­dered

Lord

by Thee;

The ele­ments ob­ey Thy nod

And na­ture vin­di­cates her God.

The pil­lars of the earth are Thine

And Thou hast set the world there­on;

They at Thy threat­en­ing look in­cline

The cen­ter trem­bles at Thy frown;

The ev­er­last­ing mount­ains bow

And God is in the earth­quake now!

Now

Lord

to shake our guil­ty land

Thou dost in in­dig­na­tion rise;

We see

we see Thy lift­ed hand

Made bare a na­tion to chas­tise

Whom nei­ther plagues nor mer­cies move

To fear Thy wrath or court Thy love.

Therefore the earth be­neath us reels

And stag­gers like our drunk­en men

The earth the mourn­ful cause re­veals

And groans our bur­den to sus­tain;

Ordained our ev­ils to de­plore

And fall with us to rise no more.