Classic Poem

Repent, repent, the day of wrath is near!
Who shall abide the terror of the hour?
Repent, the sun of righteousness is here,
Thou hast no stay save in his rock-built tower;
The rains descend, the tempest speeds its way;
They pour upon the houses built with hands,
That melt before the torrents; walls of clay
Dissolved roll onward with the rolling sands;
Where is the house that stood before secure
With gates and mighty bulwarks lifted high?
It stood not on the strong foundation sure
That rain and tempest's shock can still defy,
And, when the storm around has ceased to roar,
Stand still unmoved where once it stood before.