The Maccabaean

A D M O N I T I O N

Let my tongue my hidden thoughts express, And praise the living God, and bless— Who my soul redeemed from distress, And raised my horn on high. Awake, mine heart, awake and hear! Toward the Almighty drawing near; His anger just, yea, dread and fear, To him thy prayer and thy cry. His truth divine before thee place And know that He thy thoughts will trace, That naught is hidden before his face; No mystery His vision passes by. Tremble for the wrathful day when He Will summon thee before His majesty, Then for aid, O, whither wilt thou flee? All creatures must before Him testify! And He will judge the nations' wrong And blot out their wicked throng— Yea, all His foes, e'en old and young He will defy! His power He will o'er rulers wield— From His wrath He will no being shield, Nor His favor to the great and mighty yield, For righteous is His majesty. He will frustrate the oppressor's guile, And silence then the wanton wile; Yea, put to shame the scorner's smile, Who on themselves rely. Who scorn their Maker's heavenly reign And set their trust in riches vain; And God's exalted might disdain, Who is master o'er the lowly and the high. Who fain their heavenly King would yield For the victories won in battlefield, And for the power that gold doth wield; And the things vain it doth supply. Who mansions build to foster pride, And haughtily in them abide; And naught would dread but even chide, And waken malice and envy. Nor would before the Almighty bow, Who upon them did their might bestow; Even to His Law rebellious grow, And thwart' Him with their cry. And He's the awful and mighty King, Who summoned the ages into being, Who wrapped Himself in mercy's wing— His is the Majesty! Who with the lowly doth abide And humble will all haughty pride, Nor from the fallen turn aside, But raise them from the depth on high. But woe, to the ungodly band, When summoned 'fore the Lord to stand, Who will from them account demand— Yea, from the young and elderly. Who will be trapped in their own sin's net, And wreping, will their cup deeds regret, And drain the bitter cup before them set 'Till it be dry. Who in their sin will be undone And naught will wealth avail to one; All their earthly treasuries won, Will in ruins lie. The wicked who on spoils feed The God of mercy will not heed, But will requite them for their deed, And crush them far and nigh. Therefore from their path abstain: Avoid their throng and counsel vain, Nor with their folly thy life stain; And their assembly stand not nigh.