Thou Judge of quick and
dead, before Whose bar
severe,
With holy joy, or guilty
dread, we all shall soon
appear;
Our cautioned souls prepare
for that tremendous day,
And fill us now with
watchful care, and stir us
up to pray.
To pray, and
wait the hour, that wondrous
hour unknown,
When, robed in majesty and
power, Thou shalt from
heaven come down
The immortal Son of man, to
judge the human race,
With all Thy Father�s
dazzling train, with all Thy
glorious grace.
To damp our earthly joys,
to increase our gracious
fears,
For ever let the archangel�s
voice be sounding in our
ears;
The solemn midnight cry, �Ye
dead, the Judge is come,
Arise, and meet Him in the
sky, and meet your instant
doom!�
O may we thus be found
obedient to His Word,
Attentive to the trumpet�s
sound, and looking for our
Lord!
O may we thus ensure a lot
among the blest;
And watch a moment to secure
an everlasting rest!
