Lo! in the last of days be­hold
A faith­less race arise;
Their law­less lust their on­ly rule;
And thus the scof­fer cries:

“Where is the pro­mise, deemed so true,
That spoke the Sav­ior near?
E’er since our fa­thers slept in dust,
No change has reached our ear.

Years rolled on years suc­cess­ive glide,
Since first the world be­gan,
And on the tide of time still floats,
Secure, the bark of man.

Thus speaks the scof­fer; but his words
Conceal the truth he knows,
That from the wa­ters’ dark abyss
The earth at first arose.

But when the sons of men be­gan
With one con­sent to stray,
At Heav’n’s com­mand a del­uge swept
The god­less race away.

A dif­fer­ent fate is now pre­pared
For na­ture’s trem­bling frame;
Soon shall her orbs be all en­wrapt
In one de­vour­ing flame.

Reserved are sin­ners for the hour
When to the gulf be­low,
Armed with the hand of so­ver­eign pow­er,
The Judge con­signs His foe.

Though now, ye just! the time ap­pears
Protracted, dark, un­known,
An hour, a day, a thou­sand years,
To Hea­ven’s great Lord are one.

Still all may share His so­ver­eign grace,
In ev­ery change se­cure;
The meek, the sup­pli­ant con­trite race,
Shall find His mer­cy sure.

The con­trite race He counts His friends,
Forbids the sup­pli­ant’s fall;
Condemns re­luct­ant, but ex­tends
The hope of grace to all.

Yet as the night-wrapped thief who lurks
To seize th’ex­pect­ed prize,
Thus steals the hour when Christ shall come,
And thun­der rend the skies.

Then at the loud, the so­lemn peal,
The heav’ns shall burst away;
The ele­ments shall melt in flame,
At na­ture’s fi­nal day.

Since all this frame of things must end,
As Heav’n has so de­creed,
How wise our in­most thoughts to guard,
And watch ov­er ev­ery deed;

Expecting calm th’ap­point­ed hour,
When, na­ture’s con­flict o’er,
A new and bet­ter world shall rise,
Where sin is known no more.