Awake, our souls, be­hold how nigh
The day, when from their bas­es hurled,
The hills and mount­ains mol­der­ing lie,
And venge­ful flames con­sume the world.

The ocean’s trou­bled waves as­cend
In streams, and leave the burn­ing shore;
The so­lid earth con­vul­sions rend,
And skies and stars are seen no more.

Chaos again as­sumes its seat,
And dark­ness fills its an­cient throne;
In wild dis­or­der, at­oms meet,
And na­ture dies with aw­ful groan.

But Je­sus lives when na­ture dies,
His love sur­vives sin’s wrecks and spoils;
Pleased with the change, His saints arise,
And view be­low their fin­ished toils.

When sin­ners’ hopes ab­ort­ive prove,
And with the world their joys ex­pire,
Then shall we sing un­chang­ing love,
And ev­er feel the sacr­ed fire.