REV. VIII, I.


Yes, vain Scoffer! so the Scriptures tell us,
But awful was the silence at that time;
A prelude of the wrath of God most jealous,
Expressed in dreadful thunderbolts sublime.

Oh! hast thou ever marked the scene that follows,
When the first Angel did his trumpet take
And blow a blast heard through all Earth's vast hollows,
Which did the mountains to their bases shake?

Or realize 'the hail and fire commingling
With blood, and all cast down upon the Earth?'
To mention this should set thine ears a-tingling,
And check at times thy loud uproarious mirth.

But read thou on with most profound attention:
Dire woes stand forth in gloomy vividness!
Ah! would'st thou shrink from some vague apprehension
That the perusal might cause thee distress?

Know thou, what follows is but the beginning
Of plagues more fearful than we can conceive.
This thou must see, and yet thou keep'st on sinning,
As if such madness Conscience could relieve.

Stop, then, at once, lest in Eternal ruin
Thy soul engulfed shall see her folly great.
Flee now to Christ; become a suppliant suing
For pardon from Him ere it be too late.

More verses by Thomas Cowherd