And must thou per­ish in thy blood,
A wretch­ed soul that knows not God,
A child of Sa­tan thou!
Thy foes, and fears, and sins pre­vail;
Arrested by the pains of hell,
Where is thy re­fuge now?

Caught in the coils of death thou art,
All un­re­newed and foul thy heart,
And filled with guil­ty fear:
See there! the king of fears is come!
Prepare to meet thine in­stant doom,
Before thy God ap­pear.

Vain are thy tears and late re­morse;
The ty­rant sits on his pale horse,
Devourer of man­kind;
Attended by a ghast­ly train,
Sorrow, as­ton­is­hment, and pain,
And Hell comes close be­hind.

Ready to pierce thy trem­bling heart,
The gris­ly ter­ror shakes his dart,
And Hell ex­pects its prey!
Ready a troop of dev­ils stands
To take thee from the mon­ster’s hands,
And hur­ry thee away.

What hope, or help re­mains for thee?
Poor des­per­ate soul, and can it be
That thou shouldst mer­cy find?
Ask Him, who spilt His pre­cious blood,
To buy, and bring thee back to God,
To ran­som all man­kind.

Call, on the name of Je­sus call,
Ask if He did not die for all,
That all might turn and live?
Call on Him in this lat­est hour;
Hell is not rea­di­er to de­vour,
Than Je­sus to for­give.

Sufficient is His grace for thee;
Straitened for time He can­not be;
Thy dy­ing groan He hears;
Jesus is migh­ty to re­deem;
A day, a mo­ment’s space with Him
Is as a thou­sand years.

Call on Him, and He yet shall save:
“Redeem my spir­it from the grave,
The gulf that yawns be­neath;
Jesu, re­verse my fear­ful doom,
O snatch me from the wrath to come,
The ev­er­last­ing death.

“Sprinkle Thy blood up­on my heart;
One drop, if Thou the grace im­part,
Removes my guil­ty load,
From ev­ery spot of sin set free;
Speak all-aton­ing blood for me,
Cry in the ears of God!

Fa­ther, if now Thou hear’st it cry,
Now let it in my heart re­ply,
And show my sins for­giv’n;
Thou canst—Thou dost—this mo­ment save:
’Tis fin­ished! I my pass­port have—
Lead on, lead on to Heav’n!