John Newton & William Cowper · 209 of 356
67. See the gloomy gath’ring cloud
Hymn 67
See the gloomy gath’ring cloud Hanging o’er a sinful land! Sure the LORD proclaims aloud, Times of trouble are at hand: Happy they, who love his name! They shall always find him near; Though the earth were wrapped in flame, They have no just cause for fear.
Hark! his voice in accents mild, (O, how comforting and sweet!) Speaks to every humble child, Pointing out a sure retreat! Come, and in my chambers hide, To my of old well known; There you safely may , Till the storm be overblown.
You have only to repose On my wisdom, love, and care; Where my wrath consumes my foes, Mercy shall my children spare: While they perish in the flood, You that bear my holy mark, Sprinkled with blood, Shall be safe within the ark.
Sinners, see the ark prepared! Haste to enter while there’s room; Though the Lord his arm has bared, Mercy still retards your doom: Seek him while there yet is hope, the day of be past; Lest in wrath he give you up, And this call should prove your last.