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The Day of Judgement
WHEN the fierce
North-wind with his airy forces
Rears up the
Baltic to a foaming fury;
And the red
lightning with a storm of hail comes
Rushing amain down;
How the poor
sailors stand amazed and tremble,
While the hoarse
thunder, like a bloody trumpet,
Roars a loud
onset to the gaping waters
Quick to devour them.
Such shall the
noise be, and the wild disorder
(If things eternal
may be like these earthly),
Such the dire
terror when the great Archangel
Shakes the creation;
Tears up the
strong pillars of the vault of Heaven,
Breaks up old
marble, the repose of princes,
Sees the graves
open, and the bones arising,
Flames all around them.
Hark, the shrill
outcries of the guilty wretches!
Lively bright
horror and amazing anguish
Stare thro'
their eyelids, while the living worm lies
Gnawing within them.
Thoughts, like
old vultures, prey upon their heart-strings,
And the smart
twinges, when the eye beholds the
Lofty Judge
frowning, and a flood of vengeance
Rolling afore him.
Hopeless immortals!
how they scream and shiver,
While devils
push them to the pit wide-yawning
Hideous and
gloomy, to receive them headlong
Down to the centre!
Stop here, my
fancy: (all away, he horrid
Doleful ideas!)
come, arise to Jesus,
How He sits
God-like! and the saints around Him
Throned, yet adoring!
O may I sit there
when He comes triumphant,
Dooming the
nations! then ascend to glory,
While our Hosannas
all along the passage
Shout the Redeemer!
--Isaac Watts