Wesley Corpus

Page 25 28Ori., "o're"; a misprint, corrected in 2nd edn. (1756) and following. Tophet is for the king prepar'd, But I must have the hottest place: I claim it as my just reward, For such an endless waste of grace. Dives, and I, and Judas there With gauling chains of darkness bound; Shall howl in blasphemous despair, And fiends return the doleful sound. 10 A real fiery sulph'rous hell Shall prey upon our outward frame; But sorer pangs the soul shall feel Tormented in a fiercer flame. 11 The dreadful sin-consuming fire God shall into our spirits breathe A brimstone stream of vengeful ire, And slay them with a living death. 12 Conscience, the worm that never dies, Shall gnaw and tear us day and night, Forever banish'd from the skies And cast out of the Saviour's sight. 13 Back to the presence of the Lord, O're the vast gulph we cannot pass; We cannot, cannot be restor'd To see the glories of his face. 14 Horror of horrors! Hell of hell! This makes the cup of wrath run o'er,28 Far from my Lord with fiends to dwell, And never, never see him more. 15 O death! This is thy sting! O grave Of souls, this is thy victory! The Saviour can no longer save, A gulph is fix'd 'twixt him and me.