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They feel the pow'r of his omnipotence

Thro' all their being; feel no creature's wrath
Consume them, but the veng'ance of a God!
The wrath awak'd of injur'd deity !

In vain to rocks and hills they call to hide
And screen them from the lamb's indignant frown:
The falling mountains can afford no shade
From his broad burning eye, and when his voice
Shakes heav'n and earth, and echoes through the


"Depart ye cursed into endless fire!"

His frown, worse than a thousand hells, pursues
And sinks them down to the abhorred pit
Where infinite despair and horrors reign :
There, thro' a long eternal night they groan,
The scorn and sport of devils; deeper plung'd
Than millions in the dreadful burning lake :
Tophet for them stirs up his fiercest fires,
And in perdition seven fold, they prove,
The wrath of Jesus is the wrath of God.

Behold the New Jerusalem appears!
Bright with celestial splendors, there enthron'd,
Jesus Jehovah reigns: low at his feet

His ransom'd millions bow; in rapt'rous songs
They hymn his glorious name: triumphant joys
Inspire their swelling notes: salvation sounds
Thro' all th' eternal arches: love and praise
Glow in each heart, and dwell on ev'ry tongue :
Angels and glad archangels join the theme,
And all is wonder, harmony, and bliss.
Peace, everlasting peace, serenely flows

In the pure bosoms of the sons of light;

And while eternal ages roll along

They prove the heights and depths of soy'reign grace,
Of dying love; and in sweet unison

Ascribe salvation, honor, pow'r, and praise,
To their incarnate God, who lives and reigns
The Lord of glory, tho' the Son of man.

O blest eternity! when will the shades
Of time withdraw, and thy bright morn appear;
When happy saints shall thus behold their God,
And celebrate his name to harps of gold?
Till then, tho' with a feebler voice, in strains
Imperfect, with a meaner song than theirs,
Let universal nature own her Lord;
And at his footstool offer up an hymn

Of holy gratitude, and humble praise.
Praise him, O sun, celestial king of day!
When with bright rising beams thou crown'st the earth,
And when with full meridian splendors deck'd,

Thy flaming car hath climb'd the heights of noon,
Bow at the footstool of Immanuel's throne,
Who call'd thee into being, bade thee blaze
In all the rich magnificence of day!
Fountain of light and dewy eve,

When thou illum'st the western clouds with gold,
And sup'st with Thetis, let thy song arise

Till Hesper ushers in the starry host,

And Cynthia dart her silver rays around.

Praise him, thou moon; and all ye worlds of light:

Ye planets, as ye roll in boundless space,

O let your mighty orbs in mystic song

Record the wanders of the Son of man ; Sing the Creator, the Redeemer-God. Ye comets, bow your grand terrific heads, And while th' affrighted earth admiring views Your trains majestic sweep thro' half the skies, Join the sweet concert, and submissive own Your being hangs upon his sov’reign will. Ye clouds, that sail along the vast expanse, And in your fleecy bosoms bear the dews, The rain, the snows, to fructify the earth, Swell the grand chorus, and report his name, Till highest heav'n and distant earth resound With the loud honors of the Saviour-God! Praise him, ye storms, ye thunders, as ye roll; Ye lightnings, with your forked tongues proclaim The dignity of him who sends you forth Accomplishing his will. Praise him, ye winds, As ye burst forth his hand He holds you, when with clangor wide and rude You sweep o'er waving forests, rend the air With noisy uproar....on your wings, O bear, And let your voices sound Immanuel's praise. Soft breathing zephyrs, whisper it abroad; Charm the still ev'ning with the pleasing tale, When thy cool breezes fan her gentle breast. Ye placid show'rs, and sweet distilling dews, Join with the rushing torrent, that descends, And with impetuous roar lashes the hills, And foams along the plain, to laud his name! Praise him, ye lofty Alps and Apenines;*

Alps and Apenines, are mountains in Italy.


Ye loftier Andes,* who involve your heads,

Your snow-crown'd heads in rocks and hills,
Ye plains, and verdant vallies; flow'ry meads
And gardens of delight, where Flora's train
Puts on their gayest foliage, richest hues ;
While you emit ten thousand sweets around,
O breathe his praise....Let the forests sing;
The stately cedar, the tall pine rejoice ;
And humbler shrubs unite to spread the theme
From east to west, from florid southern climes,
To the cold regions of the frozen north.

Praise him, gay summer, crown'd with fruits and flow'rs;

O! let thy beauteous train unite to pay

Due homage to the great immortal king;
And hail Jehovah-Jesus Lord of all.
Winter, with all his sons, frost, hail and snow,
Black nights, and gloomy days, adore the God
Who turns the rivers into stone....Again

He speaks; and lo, the waters flow!....Sing thou,
Soft breathing spring, weave a fresh coronet
Of primrose, crocus, humble violet....
Inscribe it with Immanuel's sacred name;
And let it, as thine off'ring, speak his praise:
While autumn, with her yellow sheaves, attends
To swell the gen'ral anthem, and adore.
Praise him, ye eagles, as with lofty flight
Ye soar to meet the sun, and with bold eye
Dare gaze, undazzled, on the king of day.
Praise him, ye warbling larks, in softest airs;

* The Andes, are lofty-mountains in South America.

And all ye tuneful songsters of the groves,

Waft on your wings, and in your songs his praise.
Ye lions, as to him ye roar for prey,

Roar out his praises....Judah's lion reigns,
Let ev'ry creature worship at his throne.

Ye who in midnight hours range. o'er the woods,
Majestically fierce, and ye who play

In gamesome frolics o'er the flow'ry lawn;
Ye gentle hinds, ye tender playful lambs,
And all who walk the earth, and all who creep;
Insects who wanton in the sunny ray,

And spread your silken wings, bedrop'd with gold;
And you who in the briny wave display

Your scaly coats of various form and hue;
But chiefly thou, the tyrant of the deep,
Leviathan, who like a mountain roll'st
In the unfathom'd ocean, when thou play'st,
And from thy stormy nostrils spout'st a flood,
Bid it arise to praise the Son of man,
The king of glory, the incarnate God.
Let heav'n, and earth, and air, and seas, unite
To sound Immanuel's name: let echo bear
On her soft wings to nature's utmost verge
The glorious sound, and back return his praise.
Come ye who stand forever near his seat,
Bright sons of morn, cherubic legions, come :
And ye, who nearer to his throne than they,
View the immortal glories of your God,
Strike, strike your golden harps....begin a song
More noble than you ever sung before.
The saints on earth, the ransom'd of the Lord,
Take up the theme; they join the joyful lay,

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