Escape from the per­il­ous plain,
The brim­stone cloud hangs in the sky,
And om­in­ous sym­bols pro­claim
The sea­son of ven­geance is nigh.

How ma­ny once plunged in des­pair,
Have heark­ened to mer­cy’s loud call!
And still may the guil­ty re­pair
To re­fuge pro­vid­ed for all.

The world’s boast­ed shel­ters are vain,
Its an­ti­dotes fail to re­lieve;
Its plea­sures are min­gled with pain,
Its pro­mis­es on­ly de­ceive.

But Je­sus, Thou life of my soul,
Secure in Thy bo­som I hide;
On Thee all my bur­dens I roll,
I long for no re­fuge be­side.

Should life’s cher­ished joys dis­ap­pear,
Its blos­soms of hap­pi­ness fade,
These only the shel­ter en­dear,
Which tri­als can ne­ver in­vade.

Oh, come, bless­èd Sav­ior of love,
And glad­den my spir­it for­giv­en,
With hope of Thy pre­sence above,
In sor­row­less man­sions of Hea­ven!