Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Isaac Watts. 1674–1748434. The Day of Judgement
| WHEN the fierce North-wind with his airy forces | |
| Rears up the Baltic to a foaming fury; | |
| And the red lightning with a storm of hail comes | |
| Rushing amain down; | |
| How the poor sailors stand amazed and tremble, | 5 |
| While the hoarse thunder, like a bloody trumpet, | |
| Roars a loud onset to the gaping waters | |
| Quick to devour them. | |
| Such shall the noise be, and the wild disorder | |
| (If things eternal may be like these earthly), | 10 |
| Such the dire terror when the great Archangel | |
| Shakes the creation; | |
| Tears the strong pillars of the vault of Heaven, | |
| Breaks up old marble, the repose of princes, | |
| Sees the graves open, and the bones arising, | 15 |
| Flames all around them. | |
| Hark, the shrill outcries of the guilty wretches! | |
| Lively bright horror and amazing anguish | |
| Stare thro’ their eyelids, while the living worm lies | |
| Gnawing within them. | 20 |
| Thoughts, like old vultures, prey upon their heart-strings, | |
| And the smart twinges, when the eye beholds the | |
| Lofty Judge frowning, and a flood of vengeance | |
| Rolling afore him. | |
| Hopeless immortals! how they scream and shiver, | 25 |
| While devils push them to the pit wide-yawning | |
| Hideous and gloomy, to receive them headlong | |
| Down to the centre! | |
| Stop here, my fancy: (all away, ye horrid | |
| Doleful ideas!) come, arise to Jesus, | 30 |
| How He sits God-like! and the saints around Him | |
| Throned, yet adoring! | |
| O may I sit there when He comes triumphant, | |
| Dooming the nations! then ascend to glory, | |
| While our Hosannas all along the passage | 35 |
| Shout the Redeemer. |