Yet first to those ychained in sleep
The wakeful trump of doom must thunder thro’ the deep,
“With such a horrid clang
As on Mount Sinai rang,
While the red fire and smould’ring clouds out-brake.
The aged earth, aghast
With terror of that blast,
Shall from the surface to the centre shake;
When at the world’s last session
The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his throne.