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Home > Authors Index > Browse all available works of Isaac Watts > Text of Psalm 50:6 To The Old Proper Tune

A poem by Isaac Watts

Psalm 50:6 To The Old Proper Tune

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Title:     Psalm 50:6 To The Old Proper Tune
Author: Isaac Watts [More Titles by Watts]

The last judgment.


The God of glory sends his summons forth,
Calls the south nations, and awakes the north;
From east to west the sov'reign orders spread,
Thro' distant worlds, and regions of the dead:
The trumpet sounds; hell trembles; heaven rejoices;
Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices.

No more shall atheists mock his long delay;
His vengeance sleeps no more; behold the day;
Behold the Judge descends; his guards are nigh;
Tempests and fire attend him down the sky.
When God appears, all nature shall adore him;
While sinners tremble, saints rejoice before him,

"Heaven, earth, and hell, draw near; let all things come
"To hear my justice and the sinner's doom;
"But gather first my saints," the Judge commands,
"Bring them, ye angels from their distant lands:"
When Christ returns, wake every cheerful passion,
And shout, ye saints; he comes for your salvation.

"Behold my covenant stands for ever good,
"Seal'd by th' eternal sacrifice in blood,
"And sign'd with all their names, the Greek, the Jew,
"That paid the ancient worship or the new."
There's no distinction here: join all your voices,
And raise your heads, ye saints, for heaven rejoices.

"Here (saith the Lord) ye angels, spread their thrones:
"And near me seat my favorites and my sons:
"Come, my redeem'd, possess the joys prepar'd
"Ere time began! 'tis your divine reward:"
When Christ returns, wake every cheerful passion,
And shout, ye saints; he comes for your salvation.

PAUSE THE FIRST.

"I am the Saviour, I th' almighty God,
"I am the Judge: ye heavens, proclaim abroad
"My just eternal sentence, and declare
"Those awful truths that sinners dread to hear,"
When God appears all nature shall adore him;
While sinners tremble, saints rejoice before him.

7 "Stand forth, thou bold blasphemer and profane,
"Now feel my wrath, nor call my threatenings vain,
"Thou hypocrite, once drest in saint's attire,
"I doom the painted hypocrite to fire."
Judgment proceeds; hell trembles; heaven rejoices;
Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices.

"Not for the want of goats or bullocks slain
"Do I condemn thee; bulls and goats are vain
"Without the flames of love; in vain the store
"Of brutal offerings that were mine before:"
Earth is the Lord's; all nature shall adore him;
While sinners tremble, saints rejoice before him.

"If I were hungry, would I ask thee food?
"When did I thirst, or drink thy bullocks blood?
"Mine are the tamer beasts and savage breed,
"Flocks, herds, and fields, and forests where they feed:"
All is the Lord's; he rules the wide creation:
Gives sinners vengeance, and the saints salvation.

"Can I be flatter'd with thy cringing bows,
"Thy solemn chatterings and fantastic vows?
"Are my eyes charm'd thy vestments to behold,
"Glaring in gems, and gay in woven gold?"
God is the judge of hearts; no fair disguises
Can screen the guilty when his vengeance rises.

PAUSE THE SECOND.

"Unthinking wretch! how couldst thou hope to please
"A God, a spirit with such toys as these!
"While with my grace and statutes on thy tongue,
"Thou lov'st deceit, and dost thy brother wrong!"
Judgment proceeds; hell trembles; heaven rejoices:
Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices.

"In vain to pious forms thy zeal pretends,
"Thieves and adulterers are thy chosen friends;
"While the false flatterer at my altar waits,
"His harden'd soul divine instruction hates."
God is the judge of hearts; no fair disguises
Can screen the guilty when his vengeance rises.

"Silent I waited with long suffering love;
"But didst thou hope that I should ne'er reprove?
"And cherish such an impious thought within,
"That the All-Holy would indulge thy sin?"
See, God appears; all nature joins t' adore him;
Judgment proceeds, and sinners fall before him.

"Behold my terrors now; my thunders roll,
"And thy own crimes affright thy guilty soul;
"Now like a lion shall my vengeance tear
"Thy bleeding heart, and no deliverer near:"
Judgment concludes; hell trembles; heaven rejoices;
Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices..

EPIPHONEMA.

Sinners, awake betimes; ye fools, be wise;
Awake before this dreadful morning rise:
Change your vain thoughts, your crooked works amend,
Fly to the Saviour, make the Judge your friend:
Then join the saints: wake every cheerful passion;
When Christ returns, he comes for your salvation.


[The end]
Isaac Watts's poem: Psalm 50:6 To The Old Proper Tune

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