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This is the case of every one of you that are out of Christ: That world of misery, that lake of burning brimstone, is extended abroad under you. There is the dreadful pit of the glowing flames of the wrath of God: there is Hell's wide gaping mouth open: and you have nothing to stand upon, nor anything to take hold of: there is nothing between you and Hell but the air; it is only the power and mere pleasure of God that holds you up.
(Excerpt from Jonathan Edwards' sermon, "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God")
In silent night when rest I took,
For sorrow near I did not look,
I was wakened with thundering noise
And Piteous shrieks of frightened voices.
That fearful sound of "fire" and "fire,"
Let no man know is my Desire.
I, starting up, the light did spy,
And to my God my heart did cry
To strengthen me in my Distress
And not to leave me homeless.
Then coming out beheld a space,
The flame consuming my dwelling place.
(Modified excerpt from "Here followes some verses upon the burning of our house, July 10th, 1666" by Anne Bradstreet)