Lo! the young tribes of Adam rise, And through all nature rove Fulfil the wishes of their eyes, And taste the joys they love.
They give a loose to wild desires; But let the sinners know The strict account that God requires Of all the works they do.
The Judge prepares his throne on high, The frighted earth and seas Avoid the fury of his eye, And flee before his face.
How shall I bear that dreadful day, And stand the fiery test? I give all mortal joys away, To be for ever blessed.
~ Isaac Watts
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