Is there a world of bit­ter woe,
And ne­ver end­ing pain;
Where tears of deep­est ang­uish flow
For ever—but in vain?

And it is writ­ten in the Word
Of God, who can­not lie,
That sin­ners who de­ny the Lord,
Must go there when they die?

O then, what more than mad­ness reigns
Amongst our guil­ty race!
Love we to dwell in burn­ing pains,
Beyond the reach of grace;

Where God shall bid His ven­geance fall,
His ter­rors still in­crease;
And hope, that whis­pers peace to all,
Shall ne­ver whis­per peace?

Dare we the word of truth des­pise,
The wrath of God de­fy?
And proud­ly scorn­ing to be wise,
In sin and ru­in lie?

Lord, teach my stub­born heart to feel
The won­ders of Thy love;
Ere the last trum­pet’s so­lemn peal
Sounds through the vault above;

O may I learn, while yet brief space
Thy mer­cy doth af­ford;
To trust the pro­mise of Thy grace,
And live up­on Thy Word:

So shall that voice which wakes the dead,
And tells of judg­ment near,
Which fills a guil­ty world with dread,
Be mu­sic to mine ear.

So shall I rest from sor­row free,
My fears and tri­als o’er;
So pass through life’s tem­pes­tu­ous sea
Safe to the hap­py shore.