Can thought­less sin­ners hope for Heav’n,
Can un­be­liev­ers dwell at ease?
No real ground of hope is giv’n,
No pro­mise made to such as these.

Would they the gate ce­les­ti­al force?
A flam­ing sword shall guard the way;
Satan shall stop them in their course,
And ea­ger seize his cap­tive prey.

Heav’n from their vain at­tacks se­cure,
Shall still en­joy a set­tled peace;
Nor will a right­eous God en­dure
Such dar­ing re­bels near His face.

Shut out from bliss, and bound in chains
Of hea­vy guilt, the trai­tors lie;
Deluged in wrath, en­closed in flames,
Dying they live, and liv­ing die.

Jesus, who art the Lord of all,
Oh let me Thy sal­va­tion see:
And when this earth­ly build­ing fall,
Take my de­part­ing soul to Thee.