Hymn
My Thoughts on awful Subjects roll
Words: Watts, Isaac, 1674-1748
My Thoughts on awful Subjects roll, Damnation and the Dead, What Horrors seize the guilty Soul Upon a dying Bed!
Ling'ring about these mortal Shores, She makes a long Delay, Till like a Flood, with rapid Force Death sweeps the Wretch away.
Then swift and dreadful she descends Down to the fiery Coast, Amongst abominable Fiends, Herself a frightful Ghost.
There endless Crowds of Sinners lie, And Darkness makes their Chains; Tortur'd with keen Despair they cry, Yet wait for fiercer Pains.
Not all their Anguish, and their Blood For their old Guilt atones, Nor the Compassion of a God Shall hearken to their Groans.
Amazing Grace, that kept my Breath, Nor bid my Soul remove, Till I had learn'd my Saviour's Death, And well insur'd his Love.
Public domain · as printed in The Psalms of David: imitated in the language of the New Testament, and applied to the Christian state and worship (27th ed.), 1766 · text courtesy of Hymnary.org. Wording may differ slightly from your hymn book.