(8)
Once again I charge you ſtop,
For unleſs you warning take,
Ere you are aware you drop
Into the burning lake!
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?
Pale-ſac'd death will quickly come,
To drag you to his bar!
Then to hear your awful, doom,
Will fill you with deſpair!
All your fins will round you crowd,
Sins of a blood-crimſon dye;
Each for vengeance crying loud!
And what can you reply?
Tho' your heart be made of ſteel,
Your forehead lin'd with braſs,
God at length will make you feel
He will not let you paſs:
Sinners then in vain will call,
Tho' they now deſpiſe his grace,
"Rocks and mountains on us fall,
And bide us from his face!"
But as yet there is a hope,
You may his mercy know,
Tho' his arm is lifted up,
He ſtill forbears the blow!
’Twas for ſinners Jeſus died;
Sinners he invites to come
None who come ſhall be denied;
He ſays, "There still is room."
FINIS.
