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VIII.

[Brethren, the end is near]

Brethren, the end is near,
Our Lord shall soon appear:
These the days of vengeance be,
Rumour'd ills the land distress;
Wars on wars ye hear and see,
Ushering in the Prince of Peace.
His judgments are abroad,
Forerunners of our God;
Nation against nation fights,
Kingdoms against kingdoms rise;
Signs above, and fearful sights
Speak the anger of the skies.
The powers of heaven He shakes;
Earth to her centre quakes;
Famine shows her meagre face;
Pestilence stalks close behind;
Woes surround the sinful race;
Wrath abides on all mankind.
The nations are distress'd,
The wicked cannot rest:
No, in sin they sleep no more,
Toss'd with sad perplexity;
Swell the waves, and work, and roar;
Men are like the troubled sea.

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Terror their heart assails,
Their heart through terror fails;
Fails, o'erwhelm'd with huge dismay,
Looking for the plagues to come,
Shrinking from their evil day,
Fainting at their instant doom.
But ye that fear the Lord
Fear neither plague nor sword;
Jesus bids your care depart,
Ye in Jesus' love are blest;
Sprinkled is your peaceful heart:
Now expect the perfect rest.
These threatening clouds look through,
Good they portend to you:
Lift your heads, with joy look up,
Find your full redemption near;
See your soul's desire and hope,
See your glorious Lord appear.
His near approach ye know,
Treated like Him below;
This the word that Jesus said,
Now your Master's lot ye find,
Mock'd, rejected, and betray'd,
Hated now by all mankind.
In calm and quiet peace
Your patient souls possess;
God hath kept your innocence,
God shall still His own defend:
Rest in Him, your sure defence;
Suffer on, and wait the end.

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His mercy's wings are spread
To guard your naked head;
None can hurt you now, or grieve,
Hated though ye be by all:
No, without your Saviour's leave
Not one sacred hair shall fall.