2 Our anxious souls prepare
For that tremendous day;
And fill us now with watchful care,
And stir us up to pray:
3 To pray, and wait the hour,
That awful hour unknown,
When, robed in majesty and power,
Thou shalt from heaven come down.
4 Oh, may we all be found
Óbedient to Thy word-
Attentive to the trumpet's sound,
And looking for our Lord!
5 Oh, may we all insure
Á home among the blest;
And watch a moment, to secure
An everlasting rest!
THEN Thou, my righteous Judge, shalt
To call Thy ransom'd people home,
Shall I among them stand?
Shall such a worthless worm as I,
Who sometimes am afraid to die,
Be found at Thy right hand?
I love to meet among them now,
Before Thy gracious feet to bow,
Though vilest of them all;
But, can I bear the piercing thought?
What if my name should be left out,
When Thou for them shalt call?
Prevent it, Lord, by Thy rich grace;
Be thou my soul's sure hiding-place,
In this, th' accepted day;
Thy pard'ning voice, oh, let me hear,
To still my unbelieving fear;
Nor let me fall, I pray.
4 Let me among thy saints be found, Whene'er the archangel's trump shall sound, And see Thy smiling face:
Then loudest of the crowd I'll sing, While heaven's resounding mansions ring With shouts to sov'reign grace.
ND will the Judge descend?
And must the dead arise,
And not a single soul escape
His all-discerning eyes?
2 How will my heart endure
The terrors of that day,
When earth and heaven before His face
Astonish'd shrink away?
3 But ere that trumpet shakes
The mansions of the dead,
Hark, from the gospel's gentle voice
What joyful tidings spread?
4 Ye sinners, seek His grace,
Whose wrath ye cannot bear;
Fly to the shelter of His Cross,
And find salvation there.
5 So shall that curse remove,
By which the Saviour bled;
And the last awful day shall pour
His blessings on your head.
AY of judgment-day of wonders,
Hark! the trumpet's awful sound,
Louder than a thousand thunders,
Shakes the vast creation round!
How the summons
Will the sinner's heart confound!
2 See the Judge our nature wearing,
Clothed in majesty divine!
Ye who long for His appearing,
Then shall say, "This God is mine!"
Gracious Saviour!
Own me in that day for Thine! 3 At His call the dead awaken,
Rise to life from earth and sea;
All the powers of nature, shaken
By His looks, prepare to flee:
Careless sinner!
What will then become of thee?
4 But to those who have confessed,
Loved, and served the Lord below,
He will say, "Come near, ye blessed!
See the kingdom I bestow !
Shall my love and glory know."
HERE is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.
2 There everlasting spring abides,
And never-with'ring flowers:
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.
3 Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood,
Stand dress'd in living green:
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
While Jordan roll'd between.
4 But tim'rous mortals start and shrink
To cross this narrow sea;
And linger, shiv'ring, on the brink
And fear to launch away.
5 Oh, could we make our doubts remove,
Those gloomy doubts that rise,
And view the Canaan that we love
With unbeclouded eyes!
6 Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er,
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood,
Should fright us from the shore.
HIGH in yonder realms of light
Far beyond our feeble sight,
Happy in Immanuel's love!
2 Pilgrims in this vale of tears,
Once they knew, like us below,
Gloomy doubts, distressing fears,
Torturing pain, and heavy woe.
3 But, these days of weeping o'er,
Past this scene of toil and pain,
They shall feel distress no more,
4 'Mid the chorus of the skies,
'Mid th' angelic lyres above,
Hark- their songs melodious rise,
Songs of praise to Jesus' love!
5 Happy spirits! ye are fled
Where no grief can entrance find:
Lull'd to rest the aching head,
Soothed the anguish of the mind.
6 Ev'ry tear is wiped away
Sighs no more shall heave the breast; Night is lost in endless day Sorrow-in eternal rest.
HERE is an hour of hallow'd peace
For those with care oppress'd,
When sighs and sorrowing tears shall cease, And all be hush'd to rest.
'Tis then the soul is freed from fears,
And doubts that here annoy:
Then they that oft had sown in tears
Shall reap again in joy.
There is a home of sweet repose,
Where storms assail no more;
The stream of endless pleasure flows
On that celestial shore:
There purity with love appears,
And bliss without alloy;
There they that oft had sown in tears
Shall reap eternal joy.
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