How dreadful must the anguish be,
When wicked people die!
What terrors must they feel and see,
If Jesus is not nigh!
Death’s cruel sting, how sad the state,
That fills them with dismay!
Infernal spirits round them wait,
To bear their souls away.
Thy love, Lord Jesus, may we know,
In childhood’s early years,
And may Thy death and sufferings too,
Deliver us from fears.
That dreadful sting the Saviour took,
He loved poor sinners well,
Happy the child that has forsook
The paths that lead to hell.