Thus Evermore The Saints’ Avenging God
With His Dread Fires Hath Scathed The Unholy Ground;
Nor Wants There, Waiting Round The Uplifted Rod,
Watchers In Heaven And Earth, Ay Faithful Found.
God’s Armies Open-Eyed His Aim Attend,
Wondering How Oft These Warning Notes Will Peal,
Ere The Great Trump Be Blown, The Judge Descend:
Man Only Wears Cold Look And Heart Of Steel.
Age After Age, Where Antichrist Hath Reigned,
Some Flame-Tipt Arrow Of The Almighty Falls;
Imperial Cities Lie In Heaps Profaned,
Fire Blazes Round Apostate Council-Halls.
And If The World Sin On, Yet Here And There
Some Proud Soul Cowers, Some Scorner Learns To Pray;
Some Slumberer Rouses At The Beacon Glare,
And Trims His Waning Lamps, And Waits For Day.
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