My thoughts on awful subjects roll
Damnation and the dead;
What horrors seize the guilty soul
Upon a dying bed!

Lingering about these mortal shores
She makes a long delay
Till, like a flood, with rapid force
Death sweeps the wretch away

Then swift and dreadful she descends
Down to the fiery coast
Amongst abominable fiends
Herself a frightful ghost

There endless crowds of sinners lie
And darkness makes their chains;
Tortured with keen despair they cry
Yet wait for fiercer pains

Not all their anguish and their blood
For their old guilt atones
Nor the compassion of a God
Shall hearken to their groans

Amazing grace! that kept my breath
Nor bid my soul remove
Till I had learned my Savior’s death
And well insured His love