LXXX. The obstinate Sinner alarmed.

NOW let the Sons of Belial hear
The Thunders of the LORD;
Unfold their long rebellious Ear,
And tremble at his Word.

Now let the Iron-Sinew bow,
And take his easy Yoke;
Lest sudden Vengeance lay it low,
By one resistless Stroke.

Tho' yet the great Physician wait,
And healing Balm be found;
One Hour may seal their endless Fate,
And fix a deadly Wound.

Swift may thy Mercy, LORD, arise,
E'er Justice stop their Breath;
And lighten these deluded Eyes,
That sleep the Sleep of Death.