1 The Lord, the Sov'reign, sends his Summons forth,
Calls the South Nations, and awakes the North;
From East to West the sounding Order's spread,
Thro' distant Worlds and Regions of the Dead:
No more shall Atheists mock his long Delay;
His vengeance sleeps no more: Behold the Day.
2 Behold the Judge descends; his Guards are nigh;
Tempest and Fire attend him down the Sky:
Heav'n, Earth, and Hell, draw near; let all Things come
To hear his Justice, and the Sinner's Doom;
But gather first my Saints (the Judge commands)
Bring 'em, ye Angels, from their distant Lands.
3 Behold my Cov'nant stands for ever good,
Seal'd by th' eternal Sacrifice in Blood,
And sign'd with all their Names; the Greek, the Jew,
That paid the ancient Worship, or the new,
There's no Distinction here; Come, spread their Thrones,
And near me seat my Fav'rites and my Sons.
4 I their Almighty Saviour and their GOD,
I am their Judge; ye Heav'ns, proclaim abroad
My just eternal Sentence, and declare
Those awful Truths that Sinners dread to hear;
Sinners in Zion, tremble and retire;
I doom the painted Hypocrite to Fire.
5 Not for the Want of Goats or Bullocks slain
Do I condemn thee; Bulls and Goats are vain
Without the Flames of Love: In vain the Store
Of brutal Off'rings, that were mine before;
Mine are the tamer Beasts and savage Breed,
Flocks, Herds, and Fields and Forests where they feed.
6 If I were hungry, wou'd I ask thee Food?
When did I thirst, or drink thy Bullocks Blood?
Can I be flatter'd with thy cringing Bows,
Thy solemn Chatt'rings and fantastick Vows;
Are my Eyes charm'd thy Vestments to behold?
Glaring in Gems, and gay in woven Gold?
7 Unthinking Wretch! how could'st thou hope to please,
A GOD, a Spirit, with such Toys as these;
While with my Grace & Statutes on thy Tongue,
Thou lov'st Deceit, and dost thy Brother wrong,
In vain to pious Forms thy Zeal pretends,
Thieves and Adult'rers are thy chosen Friends.
8 Silent I waited with long-suffering Love,
But didst thou hope that I should ne'er reprove?
And cherish such an impious Thought within?
That GOD the Righteous would indulge thy Sin?
Behold my Terrors now; my Thunders roll,
And thy own Crimes affright thy guilty Soul.
9 Sinners, awake betimes; ye Fools, be wise;
Awake before this dreadful Morning rise;
Change your vain Thoughts, your crooked Works amend;
Fly to the Saviour, make the Judge your Friend;
Lest like a Lion his last Vengeance tear
Your trembling Souls, and no Deliv'rer near.
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