" Sleeper, arise and call upon thy God! "
The master to the sleeping prophet cried;
As to and fro with anxious fear he trod,
And vainly every art for safety tried.
E'en Superstition owns a Higher Power,
And doth upon its gods in trouble call;
When mighty tempests rise, in danger's hour,
It doth before its idols prostrate fall.
And shall not we, whom Faith's bright beams illume,
Who to the One True God our worship pay,
Call on his Name, amid the deepening gloom,
Bow at his altars, at his footstool pray?
Christians, arise, and call upon your God,
Who o'er the nation lifts his chastening rod!