1 The Lord the Sovereign sends his summons forth, Calls the south nations, and awakes the north; From east to west the sounding orders spread Thro' distant worlds and regions of the dead: No more shall atheists mock his long delay; His vengeance sleeps no more: behold the day!
2 Behold the Judge descends; his guards are nigh; Tempest and fire attend him down the sky: Heaven, earth and hell draw near; let all things come To hear his justice and the sinners doom: But gather first my saints (the Judge commands) Bring them, ye angels, from their distant lands.
3 Behold! my covenant stands for ever good, Seal'd by the eternal sacrifice in blood, And sign'd with all their names; the Greek, the Jew, That paid the ancient worship or the new. There's no distinction here: come spread their thrones, And near me seat my favorites and my sons.
4 I their almighty Saviour and their God, I am their Judge: ye heavens, proclaim abroad My just eternal sentence, and declare Those awful truths that sinners dread to hear: Sinners in Zion, tremble and retire; I doom the painted hypocrite to fire.
5 Not for the want of goats or bullocks slain Do I condemn thee; bulls and goats are vain Without the flames of love: in vain the store Of brutal offerings that were mine before; Mine are the tamer beasts and savage breed, Flocks, herds, and fields, and forests where they feed.
6 If I were hungry would I ask thee food? When did I thirst, or drink thy bullocks blood? Can I be flatter'd with thy cringing bows, Thy solemn chatterings and fantastic vows? Are my eyes charm'd thy vestments to behold, Glaring in gems, and gay in woven gold?
7 Unthinking wretch! how couldst thou hope to please A God, a spirit, with such toys as these? While with my grace and statutes on thy tongue, Thou lov'st deceit, and dost thy brother wrong; In vain to pious forms thy zeal pretends, Thieves and adulterers are thy chosen friends.
8 Silent I waited with lone-suffering love, But didst thou hope that I should ne'er reprove? And cherish such an impious thought within, That God the righteous would indulge thy sin? Behold my terrors now: my thunders roll, And thy own crimes affright thy guilty soul.
9 Sinners, awake betimes; ye fools, be wise; Awake, before this dreadful morning rise; Change your vain thoughts, your crooked works amend, Fly to the Saviour, make the Judge your friend; Lest like a lion his last vengeance tear Your trembling souls, and no deliverer near.