1 When pity prompts me to look round
Upon this fellow clay:
See men reject the Gospel sound,
Good God! what shall I say?
2 My bowels yearn for dying men,
Doom'd to eternal woe;
Fain would I speak, but 'tis in vain,
If God does not speak too.
3 O! sinners, sinners, won't you hear,
When in God's name I come!
Upon your peril don't forbear,
Lest hell should be your doom.
4 Now is the time, the accepted hour,
O! sinner come away;
The Saviour's knocking at your door,
Arise without delay.
5 O don't refuse to give him room,
Lest mercy should withdraw:
He'll then in robes of vengeance come
To execute his law.
6 Then where poor mortals, will you be,
If destitute of grace,
When you your injured judge shall see,
And stand before his face?
7 O! could you shun that dreadful sight,
How would you wish to fly
To the dark shades of endless night,
From that all-searching eye?
8 But death and hell must then give up
Their dead, who will appear
At the last trumpet's awful sound,
Their endless doom to hear.
9 No yearning bowels--pity then
Shall not affect my heart;
No, I shall surely say amen,
When Christ bids you depart.
10 Let not these warnings be in vain,
But lend a listening ear;
Lest you should meet them all again,
When wrapt in keen despair.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | When pity prompts me to look round |
Title: | A warning to sinners to flee from the wrath to come |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1800 |