Ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. All these are the beginning of sorrows.@Matthew 24:7-8

From Hymns for Times of Trouble and Persecution, by John and Charles Wesley, second edition, enlarged (London: Strahan, 1744), pages 14-16. This source does not give the author’s name, but it seems likely the hymn is by Charles Wesley.

Calvary (Turvey) Thomas Turvey, in the Methodist Hymn and Tune Book (Toronto, Canada: Methodist Book and Publishing House, 1894), number 325 (🔊 pdf nwc).

portrait
Charles Wesley (1707-1788)

Brethren, the end is near,
Our Lord shall soon appear:
These the days of vengeance be,
Rumored ills the land distress;
Wars on wars ye hear and see,
Ushering in the Prince of Peace.

His judgments are abroad,
Forerunners of our God;
Nation against nation fights,
Kingdoms against kingdoms rise;
Signs above, and fearful sights,
Speak the anger of the skies.

The powers of Heaven He shakes;
Earth to her center quakes;
Famine shows her meager face;
Pestilence stalks close behind;
Woes surround the sinful race;
Wrath abides on all mankind.

The nations are distressed,
The wicked cannot rest;
No, in sin they sleep no more,
Tossed with sad perplexity;
Swell the waves, and work, and roar,
Men are like the troubled sea.

Terror their heart assails,
Their heart through terror fails;
Fails, o’erwhelmed with huge dismay,
Looking for the plagues to come,
Shrinking from their evil day,
Fainting at their instant doom.

But ye that fear the Lord,
Fear neither plague nor sword;
Jesus bids your care depart,
Ye in Jesus’ love are blest;
Sprinkled is your peaceful heart:
Now expect the perfect rest.

These threatening clouds look through,
Good they portend to you:
Lift your heads, with joy look up,
Find your full redemption near;
See your soul’s desire and hope,
See your glorious Lord appear.

His near approach ye know,
Treated like Him below;
This the Word that Jesus said,
Now your Master’s lot ye find,
Mocked, rejected and betrayed,
Hated now by all mankind.

In calm and quiet peace
Your patient souls possess;
God hath kept your innocence,
God shall still His own defend;
Rest in Him, your sure defense,
Suffer on, and wait the end.

His mercy’s wings are spread,
To guard your naked head;
None can hurt you now, or grieve,
Hated though ye be by all:
No, without your Savior’s leave,
Not one sacred hair shall fall.