The Lord the Judge His church­es warns:
Let hy­po­crites at­tend and fear
Who place their hope in rites and forms,
But make not faith nor love their care.

Vile wretch­es dare re­hearse His name
With lips of false­hood and de­ceit;
A friend or bro­ther they de­fame,
And soothe and flat­ter those they hate.

They watch to do their neigh­bors wrong,
Yet dare to seek their mak­er’s face;
They take His co­ve­nant on their tongue,
But break His laws, abuse His grace.

To Heav’n they lift their hands un­clean,
Defiled with lust, de­filed with blood;
By night they prac­tice ev­ery sin,
By day their mouths draw near to God.

And while His judg­ments long de­lay,
They grow se­cure and sin the more;
They think He sleeps as well as they,
And put far off the dread­ful hour.

O dread­ful hour! when God draws near,
And sets their crimes be­fore their eyes!
His wrath their guil­ty souls shall tear,
And no de­liv­er­er dare to rise.