Great God, the Terrors of Thy Wrath

Great God

the ter­rors of Thy wrath

What mor­tal tongue can tell?

A fie­ry stream comes is­su­ing forth

And lights the flames of hell.

No mi­ti­ga­tion can it know

Nor ev­er have an end;

Its great­ness and du­ra­tion

too

All fi­nite thought tran­scend.

But Thou

oh Lord

hast formed a plan

Replete with won­drous grace.

To raise the fall­en crea­ture

man

To per­fect hap­pi­ness.

Through the atone­ment of my Lord

All sin may be for­giv’n;

‘Tis He rem­oves the flam­ing sword

Which barred the way to Heav­en.

Should all the pow’rs of earth and hell

Their force against me join

His cross will all my fears di­spel

And fill with peace di­vine.