Though your heart be made of steel,
                                        
                                        Your forehead lined with brass,
                                        
                                        God at length will make you feel,
                                        
                                        He will not let you pass:
                                        
                                        Sinners then in vain will call,
                                        
                                        Though they now despise His grace,
                                        
                                        “Rocks and mountains on us fall,
                                        
                                        And hide us from His face!”