1 From whence these dire Portents around,
That Earth and Heav'n amaze?
Wherefore do Earthquakes cleave the Ground,
Why hides the sun his Rays?
2 Not thus did Sinai's trembling Head
With sacred horror nod,
Beneath the dark Pavilion spread
O legislative God.
3 Thou, Earth, thy lowest Center shake
With Jesu sympathize!
Thou Sun, as hell's deep Gloom be black,
'Tis thy Creator dies!
4 See streeming from th' accursed Tree
His all atoning Blood!
Is this the Infinite? 'Tis he,
My Saviour and my God!
5 For me these Pangs his Soul assail,
For me the Death is born!
My Sin gave sharpness to the nail
And pointed every Thorn!
6 Let Sin no more my Soul inslave!
Break, Lord, the Tyrant's Chain!
O save me, whom thou cam'st to save,
Nor bleed nor die in vain!