Please pardon this brief interruption, and please consider a gift today to
support the work of Hymnary.org. Here's why.
Each month half a million people visit this website for free access to the most
complete database of North American hymnody on the planet. But this project does not
come without a cost, and we have limited sources of revenue. Twice a year we hold
a fund drive, and these drives are critical to our future.
So if you benefit from Hymnary.org, would you consider a donation today? Even
small amounts help, and they also let us know you're behind us and support what we do.
Click the Donate button below to be taken to a secure giving site. Or you can make your
tax-deductible contribution by sending a check to Hymnary.org at 3201 Burton SE,
Grand Rapids, MI 49546.
On behalf of the entire Hymnary.org team, our thanks.
1 Come all you've spent your blooming days
In our own lusts and Satan's ways;
Bow down to God, confess your sin,
Lest you should never enter in--
2 In through the gate that is on high,
Which leads to joys above the sky;
Where all the saints their voices raise,
Rejoice and sing their maker's praise.
3 All who do wish to pass this gate,
Must walk upright and very straight;
If you should miss this gate I know,
Down to a burning hell you'll go.
4 There endless sorrow, endless pain,
Without a hope of peace again;
Oh! then your aching souls will say,
"Why did we God so disobey!"
5 His hand was stretched forth all the day,
We cannot have one word to say;
For we have had many a call,
And we like fools rejected all.
6 One word of caution to the young,
Who never have God's praise sung;
Give up to Christ before's too late,
Or else in heal you'll have your fate.
7 Down with the hellish devils there,
Locked down in horror and despair;
But Oh! the formidable cries,
That fill the earth and reach the skies.
8 They turn their eyes to heaven and see,
Where all the righteous people be;
Look down into a gaping hell,
See where the devil's host doth dwell.
9 This heaven is a happy place,
Where every soul is filled with grace;
This hell it is a place of spite,
Where sorrows there are infinite.
10 Come mind the words which I have penned,
Lest down to hell God should you send:
The place I will describe once more,
"Tis where the devils always roar.
Divine Hymns, or Spiritual Songs: for the use of religious assemblies and private Christians 1800