1 Come, O my chosen people come,
Far from the evil world retire,
Wise to escape th’impending doom,
The weight of Heaven’s vindictive ire.

2 Enter into thy secret place,
With silent awe thy God adore,
Hide thee for one short moment’s space,
And rest till all the wrath be o’er.

3 For lo! the Lord from Heaven comes down,
Vengeance on sinful man to take;
The world shall tremble at His frown,
The earth shall to her center quake.

4 The earth shall at His word her blood
Disclose, nor longer hide her slain;
The dead shall rise to meet their God,
And sink into eternal pain.