Ah, guil­ty sin­ner, rui­ned by trans­gress­ion,
What shall thy doom be, when ar­rayed in ter­ror,
God shall com­mand thee, cov­ered with pol­lu­tion,
Up to the judg­ment?

Wilt thou es­cape from His om­ni­sci­ent no­tice,
Fly to the ca­verns, court an­ni­hi­la­tion?
Vain thy pre­sump­tion, jus­tice still shall tri­umph
In thy de­struct­ion.

Stop, thought­less sin­ner, stop awhile and pon­der,
Ere death ar­rest thee, and the Judge, in ven­geance,
Hurl from His pre­sence thine af­fright­ed spi­rit,
Swift to per­di­tion.

Oft He has called thee, but thou wouldst not hear Him,
Mercies and judg­ments have alike been slight­ed;
Yet He is gra­cious, and with arms un­fold­ed,
Waits to em­brace thee.

Come, then, poor sin­ner, come away this moment,
Just as you are, come, fil­thy and pol­lut­ed,
Come to the foun­tain open for un­clean­ness;
Jesus in­vites you.

But, if you tri­fle with His gra­cious mes­sage,
Cleave to the world and love its guil­ty plea­sures,
Mercy, grown wea­ry, shall in right­eous judg­ment,
Quit you for­ev­er.

Then you shall call, but He will not re­gard you,
Seek for His fa­vor, but shall ne­ver find it,
Cry to the rocks to hide you from His pre­sence,
Deep in their ca­verns.

Where the worm dies not, and the fire eter­nal,
Fills the lost soul with ang­uish and with ter­ror,
There shall the sin­ner spend a long for­ev­er,
Dying un­par­doned.

Oh! guil­ty sin­ner, hear the voice of warn­ing;
Fly to the Sav­ior, and em­brace His par­don;
So shall your spi­rit meet, with joy tri­um­phant,
Death and the judg­ment!