1 No words can declare,
No fancy can paint,
What rage and despair
What hopeless complaint,
Fill Satan's dark dwelling,
The prison beneath;
What weeping and wailing,
And gnashing of teeth!
2 Yet sinners will choose
This dreadful abode,
Each madly pursues
The dangerous road;
Though God gives them warning,
They onward will go,
They answer the scorning,
And rush upon woe.
3 How sad to behold
The rich and the poor,
The young and the old,
All blindly secure!
All posting to ruin,
Refusing to stop;
Ah! think what you're doing,
While yet there is hope!
4 How weak is your hand,
To fight with the Lord!
How can you withstand
The edge of his sword!
What hope of escaping
For those who oppose,
When hell is wide gaping
To swallow his foes!
5 How oft have you dar'd
The Lord to his face;
Yet still you are spar'd
To hear of his grace;
Oh pray for repentance,
And life-giving faith;
Before the just sentence
Consign you to death.
6 It is not too late
To Jesus to flee,
His mercy is great,
His pardon is free!
His blood has such virtue
For all that believe,
That nothing can hurt you,
If him you receive.
Hymns and Spiritual Songs for the use of Christians, 1803