Look, look up; the spray is dashing,
Roaring waters foam and sweep, --
O'er your head the torrent dashing,
Hurls its grandeur down the steep.
O, mortal man beneath such splendours,
How trifling, mean, and vain, and poor!
Prepare, then, sinner, to surrender
All thoughts unhallowed and impure.
Terrific is the scene around you --
Mark ye how wild the waters ring;
Columns of wreathing cloud surround you --
This is Thy work, O God, our King!