Proud Babylon Yet Waits Her Doom

Proud Ba­by­lon yet waits her doom;

Nor can her tot­ter­ing pal­ace fall

Till some blest mes­sen­ger arise

The spa­cious hea­then world to call.

And see the glo­ri­ous time ap­proach!

Behold the migh­ty an­gel fly

The Gos­pel tid­ings to con­vey

To ev­ery land be­neath the sky!

O see

on both the In­dia’s coast

And Af­ri­ca’s un­hap­py shore

The un­learned sav­ag­es press to hear;

And hear­ing

won­der and adore.

See

while the joy­ful truth is told

That Je­sus left His throne in Heav­en

And suf­fered

died and rose again

That guil­ty souls might be for­giv­en.

See what de­light

un­felt be­fore

Beams in his fixed at­tent­ive eye;

And hear him ask

For wretch­ed me

Did this divine Re­deem­er die?

Ah! why have ye so long for­borne

To tell such wel­come news as this?

Go now

let ev­ery sin­ner hear

And share in such ex­alt­ed bliss.

The is­lands

wait­ing for His law

With rap­ture greet the sac­red sound;

And

taught the Sav­iour’s pre­cious name

Cast all their id­ols to the ground.

Now

Ba­by­lon

thy hour is come

Thy curs­ed foun­da­tion shall give way

And thine eter­nal ov­er­throw

The tri­umphs of the cross dis­play.