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Isaac Watts - Hymn 44Isaac Watts - Hymn 44
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Hell; or, The vengeance of God. With holy fear and humble song, The dreadful God our souls adore; Rev`rence and awe become the tongue That speaks the terrors of his power. Far in the deep where darkness dwells, The land of horror and despair, Justice has built a dismal hell, And laid her stores of vengeance there. [Eternal plagues, and heavy chains, Tormenting racks, and fiery coals, And darts t` inflict immortal pains, Dyed in the blood of damned souls.] [There Satan, the first sinner, lies, And roars, and bites his iron bands; In vain the rebel strives to rise, Crushed with the weight of both thy hands.] There guilty ghosts of Adam`s race Shriek out, and howl beneath thy rod Once they could scorn a Savior`s grace, But they incensed a dreadful God. Tremble, my soul, and kiss the Son; Sinners, obey the Savior`s call; Else your damnation hastens on, And hell gapes wide to wait your fall.
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