When God of old came down from Heav’n,
In pow­er and wrath He came;
Before His feet the clouds were riv­en,
Half dark­ness and half flame:

Around the trem­bling mount­ain’s base
The pros­trate peo­ple lay;
A day of wrath, and not of grace;
A dim and dread­ful day.

But when He came the se­cond time,
He came in pow­er and love;
Softer than gale at morn­ing prime
Hovered His ho­ly Dove.

The fires that rushed on Si­nai down
In sud­den tor­rents dread,
Now gent­ly light, a gl­ori­ous crown,
On ev­ery saint­ed head.

Like ar­rows went those light­nings forth
Winged with the sin­ner’s doom,
But these, like tongues, o’er all the earth
Proclaiming life to come:

And as on Is­ra­el’s awe-struck ear
The voice ex­ceed­ing loud,
The trump, that an­gels quake to hear,
Thrilled from the deep, dark cloud;

So, when the Spi­rit of our God
Came down His flock to find,
A voice from Heav’n was heard abroad,
A rush­ing, migh­ty wind.

Nor doth the out­ward ear alone
At that high warn­ing start;
Conscience gives back th’ ap­pal­ling tone;
’Tis ech­oed in the heart

It fills the Church of God; it fills
The sinf­ul world around;
Only in stub­born hearts and wills
No place for it is found.

To oth­er strains our souls are set:
A gid­dy whirl of sin
Fills ear and brain, and will not let
Heaven’s har­mo­nies come in.

Come Lord, come wis­dom, love and power,
Open our ears to hear;
Let us not miss th’ ac­cept­ed hour;
Save, Lord, by love or fear.