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Poem by John Newton
The Great Tribunal
John in vision saw the day When the Judge will hasten down: Heaven and earth shall flee away From the terror of his frown; Dead and living, small and great, Raised from the earth and sea, At his bar shall hear their fate; What will then become of me? Can I bear his awful looks? Shall I stand in judgment then, When I see the opened books, Written by the Almighty's pen? If he to remembrance bring, And expose to public view, Every work and secret thing, Ah, my soul, what canst thou do? When the list shall be produced Of the talents I enjoyed; Means and mercies, how abused! Time and strength, how misemployed! Conscience, then compelled to read, Must allow the charge is true; Say, my soul, what canst thou plead? In that hour what wilt thou do? But the book of life I see, May my name be written there! Then from guilt and danger free, Glad I'll meet him in the air: That's the book I hope to plead, 'Tis the gospel opened wide; Lord, I am a wretch indeed! I have sinned, but thou hast died. Now my soul knows what to do; Thus I shall with boldness stand, Numbered with the faithful few, Owned and saved at thy right hand: If thou help a feeble worm To believe thy promise now, Justice will at last confirm What thy mercy wrought below.
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