2 His sounding chariot shakes the sky, He makes the clouds his throne, There all his stores of lightning lie, Till vengeance dart them down. 3 His nostrils breathe out fiery streams, And from his awful tongue A sovereign voice divides the flames, And thunder roars along. 4 Think, O my soul, the dreadful day When this incensed God Shall rend the sky, and burn the sea, And fling his wrath abroad. 5 What shall the wretch the sinner do? He once defy'd the Lord; But he shall dread the Thunderer now, And sink beneath his word. 6 Tempests of angry fire shall roll To blast the rebel-worm, And beat upon his naked soul In one eternal storm. * Made in a great sudden storm of thunder, August 20, 1697. Hymn 2:63. A funeral thought. 1 Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound, My ears attend the cry, "Ye living men, come view the ground "Where you must shortly lie. 2 "Princes, this clay must be your bed, "In spite of all your towers; "The tall, the wise, the reverend head "Must lie as low as ours." 3 Great God, is this our certain doom? And are we still secure? Still walking downward to our tomb, And yet prepare no more? 4 Grant us the powers of quickening grace To fit our souls to fly, Then, when we drop this dying flesh, We'll rise above the sky. Hymn 2:64. God the glory and defence of Sion. 1 Happy the church, thou sacred place, The seat of thy Creator's grace; Thine holy courts are his abode, Thou earthly palace of our God. 2 Thy walls are strength, and at thy gates A guard of heavenly warriors waits; Nor shall thy deep foundations move, Fix'd on his counsels and his love. 3 Thy foes in vain designs engage, Against his throne in vain they rage, Like rising waves, with angry roar, That dash and die upon the shore. 4 Then let our souls in Zion dwell, Nor fear the wrath of Rome and hell: His arms embrace this happy ground, Like brazen bulwarks built around. 5 God is our shield, and God our sun; Swift as the fleeting moments run, On us he sheds new beams of grace, And we reflect his brightest praise. Hymn 2:65. The hope of heaven our support under trials on earth. 1 When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes. 2 Should earth against my soul engage, And hellish darts be hurl'd, Then I can smile at Satan's rage, And face a frowning world. 3 Let cares like a wild deluge come, And storms of sorrow fall, May I but safely reach my home, My God, my heaven, my all. 4 There shall I bathe my weary soul In seas of heavenly rest, And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast. Hymn 2:66. A prospect of heaven makes death easy. 1 There is a land of pure delight Where saints immortal reign, Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. 2 There everlasting spring abides, And never withering flowers: Death like a narrow sea divides This heavenly land from ours.