Words: Isaac Watts
The wisdom and equity of Providence.
1 When the great Judge, supreme and just, Shall once inquire for blood, The humble souls that mourn in dust Shall find a faithful God.
2 He from the dreadful gates of death Does his own children raise; In Zion's gates, with cheerful breath, They sing their Father's praise.
3 His foes shall fall, with heedless feet, Into the pit they made; And sinners perish in the net That their own hands had spread.
4 Thus, by thy judgments, mighty God, Are thy deep counsels known; When men of mischief are destroyed, The snare must be their own.
5 The wicked shall sink down to hell; Thy wrath devour the lands That dare forget thee, or rebel Against thy known commands.
6 Though saints to sore distress are brought, And wait and long complain, Their cries shall not be still forgot, Nor shall their hopes be vain.
7 Rise, great Redeemer, from thy seat, To judge and save the poor; Let nations tremble at thy feet, And man prevail no more.
8 Thy thunder shall affright the proud, And put their hearts to pain; Make them confess that thou art God, And they but feeble men.