The Tolling Bell

Oft as the bell, with solemn toll, Speaks the departure of a soul, Let each one ask himself—“Am I Prepared, should I be call’d to die?”

Only this frail and fleeting breath Preserves me from the jaws of death; Soon as it fails at once I’m gone, And plunged into a world unknown.

Then leaving all I loved below, To God’s tribunal I must go— Must hear the Judge pronounce my fate, And fix my everlasting state.

But could I bear to hear him say, “Depart, accursed, far away; With Satan in the lowest hell, Thou art for ever doom’d to dwell”?

Lord Jesus! help me now to flee, And seek my hope alone in thee; Apply thy blood, thy Spirit give, Subdue my sin and let me live.

Then when the solemn bell I hear, If saved from guilt I need not fear; Nor would the thought distressing be— Perhaps it next may toll for me.

Rather my spirit would rejoice, And long and wish to hear thy voice; Glad when it bids me earth resign, Secure of heaven if thou art mine.