With Radiant Beams the Sun Arose

With ra­di­ant beams the sun arose

On So­dom’s fat­ed tow­ers;

In plea­sure’s round

and false re­pose

They spend the cheer­ful hours.

Lot’s warn­ing voice they mock­ing heard

Their hearts

elate with pride

No joy with­held

no dan­ger feared—

The pro­phet they de­ride.

In vain he pleads

Fly

sin­ner fly…

Behold de­struct­ion near!

Empty en­thu­si­ast

they re­ply

And ri­di­cule his fear.

But sud­den o’er the trem­bling ground

The heav’ns tre­men­dous lower;

And streams of fire and brim­stone round

In tor­rents down­ward pour.

They scream…they fly…no hope re­mains—

Blaspheme—in flames e­xpire;

Lot

safe in Zoar a re­fuge gains—

A brand plucked from the fire.

Sinner

be­hold—the warn­ing take;

This mo­ment hear and fear:

For if the righ­teous scarce es­cape

O where wilt thou ap­pear?