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 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
11
DOOMSDAY.
From Herbert.
“Come to Judgment, come away!”
(Hark, I hear the angel say,
Summoning the dust to rise;)
“Haste, resume, and lift your eyes;
Hear, ye sons of Adam, hear;
Man, before thy God appear!”
(Hark, I hear the angel say,
Summoning the dust to rise;)
“Haste, resume, and lift your eyes;
Hear, ye sons of Adam, hear;
Man, before thy God appear!”
Come to Judgment, come away!
This the last, the dreadful day.
Sovereign Author, Judge of all,
Dust obeys Thy quickening call,
Dust no other voice will heed:
Thine the trump that wakes the dead.
This the last, the dreadful day.
Sovereign Author, Judge of all,
Dust obeys Thy quickening call,
Dust no other voice will heed:
Thine the trump that wakes the dead.
Come to Judgment, come away!
Lingering man, no longer stay;
Thee let earth at length restore,
Prisoner in her womb no more;
Burst the barriers of the tomb,
Rise to meet thy instant doom!
Lingering man, no longer stay;
Thee let earth at length restore,
Prisoner in her womb no more;
Burst the barriers of the tomb,
Rise to meet thy instant doom!
Come to Judgment, come away!
Wide dispersed howe'er ye stray,
Lost in fire, or air, or main,
Kindred atoms meet again;
Sepulchred where'er ye rest,
Mix'd with fish, or bird, or beast.
Wide dispersed howe'er ye stray,
Lost in fire, or air, or main,
Kindred atoms meet again;
Sepulchred where'er ye rest,
Mix'd with fish, or bird, or beast.
12
Come to Judgment, come away!
Help, O Christ, Thy work's decay:
Man is out of order hurl'd,
Parcell'd out to all the world;
Lord, Thy broken concert raise,
And the music shall be praise.
Help, O Christ, Thy work's decay:
Man is out of order hurl'd,
Parcell'd out to all the world;
Lord, Thy broken concert raise,
And the music shall be praise.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |