Behold! with awful pomp

Behold! with awful pomp
The Judge prepares to come;
The archangel sounds the dreadful trump,
And wakes the general doom.

Nature, in wild amaze,
Her dissolution mourns;
Blushes of blood the moon deface;
The sun to darkness turns.

The living look with dread;
The frighted dead arise,
Start from the monumental bed,
And lift their ghastly eyes.

Horrors all hearts appal,
They quake! they shriek! they cry!
Bid rocks and mountains on them fall,
But rocks and mountains fly.

Ye wilful, wanton fools,
Let dangers make you wise;
Carnal professors, careless souls,
Unclose your sleeping eyes.

'T is time we all awake;
The dreadful day draws near;
Sinners, your proud presumption check,
And stop your wild career.

Now is th' accepted time,
To Christ for mercy fly;
O turn, repent, and trust in him,
And you shall never die.

Great God, in whom we live,
Prepare us for that day;
Help us in Jesus to believe,
To watch, and wait. and pray.