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1 My thoughts on awful subjects roll,
Damnation and the dead;
What horrors seize the guilty soul
Upon a dying bed!
2 Lingering about these mortal shores,
She makes a long delay,
Till like a flood, with rapid force,
Death sweeps the wretch away.
3 Then swift and dreadful she descends
Down to the fiery coast,
Amongst abominable fiends
Herself a frighted ghost.
4 There endless crowds of sinners lie,
And darkness makes their chains;
Tortur'd with keen despair they cry,
Yet wait for fiercer pains.
5 Not all their anguish and their blood
For their old guilt atones,
Nor the compassion of a God
Shall hearken to their groans.
6 Amazing grace, that kept my breath,
Nor bid my soul remove,
Till I had learn'd my Saviour's death,
And well insur'd his love.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | My thoughts on awful subjects roll |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1801 |