I looked, and behold, a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. Revelation 6:8
Words: Charles Wesley, Hymns and Sacred Poems (Bristol, England: Felix Farley, 1749), Volume 1, number 26, alt.
And must thou perish in thy blood,
A wretched soul that knows not God,
A child of Satan thou!
Thy foes, and fears, and sins prevail;
Arrested by the pains of hell,
Where is thy refuge now?
Caught in the coils of death thou art,
All unrenewed and foul thy heart,
And filled with guilty fear:
See there! the king of fears is come!
Prepare to meet thine instant doom,
Before thy God appear.
Vain are thy tears and late remorse;
The tyrant sits on his pale horse,
Devourer of mankind;
Attended by a ghastly train,
Sorrow, astonishment, and pain,
And Hell comes close behind.
Ready to pierce thy trembling heart,
The grisly terror shakes his dart,
And Hell expects its prey!
Ready a troop of devils stands
To take thee from the monster’s hands,
And hurry thee away.
What hope, or help remains for thee?
Poor desperate soul, and can it be
That thou shouldst mercy find?
Ask Him, who spilt His precious blood,
To buy, and bring thee back to God,
To ransom all mankind.
Call, on the name of Jesus call,
Ask if He did not die for all,
That all might turn and live?
Call on Him in this latest hour;
Hell is not readier to devour,
Than Jesus to forgive.
Sufficient is His grace for thee;
Straitened for time He cannot be;
Thy dying groan He hears;
Jesus is mighty to redeem;
A day, a moment’s space with Him
Is as a thousand years.
Call on Him, and He yet shall save:
“Redeem my spirit from the grave,
The gulf that yawns beneath;
Jesu, reverse my fearful doom,
O snatch me from the wrath to come,
The everlasting death.
“Sprinkle Thy blood upon my heart;
One drop, if Thou the grace impart,
Removes my guilty load,
From every spot of sin set free;
Speak all-atoning blood for me,
Cry in the ears of God!
Father, if now Thou hear’st it cry,
Now let it in my heart reply,
And show my sins forgiv’n;
Thou canst—Thou dost—this moment save:
’Tis finished! I my passport have—
Lead on, lead on to Heav’n!