The del­uge, at th’Al­migh­ty’s call,
In what im­pe­tu­ous streams it fell!
Swallowed the mount­ains in its rage,
And swept a guil­ty world to hell.

In vain the tall­est sons of pride
Fled from the close pur­su­ing wave,
Nor could their migh­ti­est tow­ers de­fend,
Nor swift­ness ’scape, nor cour­age save.

How dire the wreck! How loud the roar!
How shrill the uni­ver­sal cry
Of mill­ions in the last des­pair,
Re-echoed from the low­er­ing sky.

Yet Noah, hum­ble, hap­py saint,
Surrounded with the chos­en few,
Sat in his ark, se­cure from fear,
And sang the grace that steered him ’thro.

So may I sing, in Je­sus safe,
When storms of ven­geance round me fall;
Conscious how high my hopes are fixed,
Beyond what shakes this earth­ly ball.

Enter thine ark, while pa­tience waits,
Nor ev­er quit that sure re­treat;
Then the wide flood, which bu­ries earth,
Shall waft thee to a fair­er seat.

Nor wreck nor ru­in there is seen;
There not a wave of trou­ble rolls;
But the bright rain­bow round the throne
Seals end­less life to all their souls.