1. I see the radiant lightnings through the clouds descending,
Whipped to fury by torment's pitiless goad,

2. And from heaven's sublime and majestic lightning
Stones of chastisement hurl'd on the wicked's abode,

3. Then arise, oh thou buried in slumber profound!
Awaken! the hour of account is at hand,

4. Not by me shall the trump be blown to confound thee,
I cite but the law by supreme command.