The deluge, at th’Almighty’s call,
In what impetuous streams it fell!
Swallowed the mountains in its rage,
And swept a guilty world to hell.
In vain the tallest sons of pride
Fled from the close pursuing wave,
Nor could their mightiest towers defend,
Nor swiftness ’scape, nor courage save.
How dire the wreck! How loud the roar!
How shrill the universal cry
Of millions in the last despair,
Re-echoed from the lowering sky.
Yet Noah, humble, happy saint,
Surrounded with the chosen few,
Sat in his ark, secure from fear,
And sang the grace that steered him ’thro.
So may I sing, in Jesus safe,
When storms of vengeance round me fall;
Conscious how high my hopes are fixed,
Beyond what shakes this earthly ball.
Enter thine ark, while patience waits,
Nor ever quit that sure retreat;
Then the wide flood, which buries earth,
Shall waft thee to a fairer seat.
Nor wreck nor ruin there is seen;
There not a wave of trouble rolls;
But the bright rainbow round the throne
Seals endless life to all their souls.