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2 O God, my inmost soul convert,
And deeply on my thoughtful heart

Eternal things impress :
Give me to feel their solemn weight,
And tremble on the brink of fate,

And wake to righteousness.
3 Before me place, in dread array,
The pomp of that tremendous day,

When Thou with clouds shalt come
To judge the nations at Thy bar ;
And tell me, Lord, shall I be there,

To meet a joyful doom ?

4 Be this my one great business here.
With serious industry and fear,

Eternal bliss to insure ;
Thine utmost counsel to fulfil.
And suifer all Thy righteous will,

And to the end endure.
484. C- ^- M* OCCOM.
Yb must bk bobk aoaik.— JohnS:7.
1 Awaked by Sinai's awful sound.
