My former hopes are fled,
My terror now begins;

      My former hopes are fled,
      My terror now begins;
I feel, alas! that I am dead
      In trespasses and sins.

      Ah, whither shall I fly?
      I hear the thunder roar;
The law proclaims destruction nigh,
      And vengeance at the door.

      When I review my ways,
      I dread impending doom:
But sure a friendly whisper says,
      "Flee from the wrath to come."

      I see, or think I see,
      A glimmering from afar;
A beam of day, that shines for me,
      To save me from despair.

      Forerunner of the sun,
      It marks the pilgrim's way;
I'll gaze upon it while I run,
      And watch the rising day.

~ William Cowper

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