Now is the time, th’ac­cept­ed hour,
O! sin­ners come away;
The Sav­ior’s knock­ing at our door,
Arise with­out de­lay.

O! don’t re­fuse to give Him room,
Lest mer­cy should with­draw;
He’ll then in robes of ven­geance come
To exe­cute His law.

Then where, poor mor­tals, will you be,
If des­ti­tute of grace,
When you your in­jured Judge shall see,
And stand be­fore His face.

O! could you shun that dread­ful sight,
How would you wish to fly,
To darkest shades of end­less night,
From that all-search­ing eye?

But death and hell must all ap­pear
And you among them stand;
Before the great im­par­tial bar
Arraigned at Christ’s left hand.

Let not these warn­ings be in vain,
But lend a list­en­ing ear;
Lest you should meet them all again,
When wrapped in keen des­pair.