Ezekiel 9, Part 1

Great God, whose wrath in ancient times
O'erflow'd Thy sinful people's crimes;
Whose angry voice again I hear,
Which thunder'd in EzekiePs ear;
Stir up Thy mercy with Thy power,
And arm us for the fiery hour.

If now the dreadful charge is given
To the fierce ministers of heaven.
If ready now the aliens stand,
Their slaughter-weapons in their hand,
To deal the chastisements of God,
And make our land a field of blood:

Come with them, O Thou Man in white.
Who dost in gracious acts delight,
Before the dire destroyers come,
In love prevent the general doom:
Nor make Thy wrath on sinners known,
Till mercy hath secured Thine own.

Our sad devoted land go through,
Distinguishing the mournful few,
Whose spirits vex'd with pious pain,
Lament our sins of deepest stain,
And groan the public guilt to bear.
And agonize in secret prayer.

The men, who daily sigh and grieve,
The Lots that in our Sodom live,
A difference in their favour make,
Into Thy kind protection take.
And claim the pensive souls for Thine,
And mark them with the crimson sign.

The sign which men and demons flee,
Let us even now receive from Thee;
Inscribe us, O Thou pardoning God,
Write our protection in Thy blood,
(That blood which every ill averts,)
And stamp Thine image on our hearts.