Verse 1
Grip’d [Gripp’d] by th’ arresting hand of death,
The glutton too resigns his breath,
Lodg’d in a stately tomb!
His carcase leaves its bliss behind,
His soul with tort’ring fiends confin’d
Receives its fearful doom.
Verse 2
Below, he lifts his haggard eyes,
Curst with a glimpse of paradise,
And sees the beggar there:
The loss of heavenly happiness
Doth all his raging pangs increase,
And deepens his despair.
Verse 3
Thou epicure not yet in hell,
Thy danger now submit to feel
While thy damnation stays:
Awake out of thy worldly dream,
Lift up thine eyes in prayer to Him
Who offers all his grace.
Verse 4
Thou need’st not feel th’ infernal woe,
Or to that place of torment go,
That endless misery:
Repent, renounce thy wealth and ease,
Sell all for Jesus love, and seize
The heaven prepar’d for thee.