One can't help noticing that we get only one verse for saints and three for sinners here - and in language that would exclude it from most modern hymn books. One feels that the opening 'Happy the saints' lures you in to something quite unexpected. Why did Beddome not end with another verse about the joys of the saints? Perhaps he knew his congregation well enough not to want to produce any false hopes.
HAPPY the saints whose varied life
Is with new blessings crowned;
They like an ever fruitful field,
Are girt with mercy round.
2 But unremitting storms of woe,
For sinners are prepared;
Vengeance attends where’er they go,
And hell’s their sure reward.
3 Their firmest hopes and sweetest joys
Just like a shadow fly;
Conscience enraged will ever frown,
Their worm shall never die.
4 Plunged in the depths of black despair,
They’ll gnaw their tongues for pain;
And wish for death to end their grief,
But wish, alas, in vain.
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