2.
Alarm.
1 STOP, poor sinner ! stop and think,
Before you farther go !
Will you sport upon the brink
Of everlasting woe ?
Once again I charge you, stop ;
For unless you warning take,
Ere you are aware you drop
Into the burning lake.
2 Say, have you an arm like God,
That you his will oppose ?
Fear you not that iron rod
With which he breaks his foes ?
Can you stand in that dread day
When he judgment shall proclaim,
And the earth shall melt away
Like wax before the flame ?
3 Pale-faced death will quickly come
To drag you to his bar ;
Then to hear your awful doom
Will fill you with despair :
All your sins will round you crowd,
Sins of a blood-crimson dye ;
Each for vengeance crying loud,
And what can you reply ?
4 Though your heart be made of steel,
Your forehead lined with brass,
God at length will make you feel
He will not let you pass :
Sinners then in vain will call,
(Though they now despise his grace)
Rocks and mountains, on us fall,
And hide us from his face !
5 But as yet there is a hope
You may his mercy know ;
Though his arm is lifted up,
He still forbears the blow :
