The dead in Christ are first to rise,
And greet th' archangel's warning;
To meet the Saviour in the skies,
On this most awful morning;
The trumpet sounds! the graves restore
The dead that they contain'd before!
Prepare, my soul, to meet Him.
His Cross, dread Sign, in heav'n appears;
While stoutest hearts are quailing;
Th' ungodly rise, and all their tears
And sighs are unavailing.
The trumpet sounds! the graves restore
The dead that they contain'd before!
Prepare, my soul, to meet Him.
My Judge, oh, grant me to ascend
Before Thy Throne immortal,
When thousand thousands Thee attend,
And enter Heav'n's high portal.
The trumpet sounds! the graves restore
The dead that they contain'd before!
Prepare, my soul, to meet Him.
DAY of wrath!—that awful day
Shall the banner'd Cross display,
Earth in ashes melt away!
The trembling, the agony,
When His coming shall be nigh
Who shall all things judge and try!
When the trumpet's thrilling tone
Through the tombs of ages gone
Summons all before the Throne.
Death shall shrink and nature quake,
When all creatures shall awake
Answer to their Judge to make.
Then the Volume shall be spread,
And the writing shall be read
Which shall judge the quick and dead.
When the Judge is on His Throne,
All that's hidden shall be shown,
Nought unpunish'd or unknown.
What shall wretched I then plead?
Who for me shall intercede,
When the righteous scarce is freed?
King of dreadful Majesty,
Saving souls in mercy free,
Fount of Pity, save Thou me!
Leave me not, my Saviour! one
For whose soul Thy course was run,
Lest I be that day undone.
Weary seeking me wast Thou,
And for me in death didst bow;
Be Thy toils availing now!
Judge of Justice, Thee I pray,
Grant me pardon while I may,
Ere that awful reckoning-day.
O'er my crimes I guilty groan,
Blush to think what I have done;
Spare Thy suppliant, Holy One!
Thou didst set the adultress free,
Heard'st the thief upon the Tree,
Hope vouchsafing e'en to me.
Nought of Thee my prayers can claim,
Save! in Thy free mercy's name-
Save me from the deathless flame!
With Thy sheep my place assign,
Separate from th' accursed line,
Set me on Thy Right with Thine.
When the lost, in silence driven,
To devouring flames are given,
Call me with the blest to Heaven!
Suppliant, fallen, low I bend,
My bruis'd heart to ashes rend;
Care Thou, LORD, for my last end!
Full of tears that day shall prove
When, from ashes rising, move
To the judgment guilty men.
Spare, Thou GOD of mercy, then!
LORD all-pitying, Jesu blest!
Grant them Thine eternal rest.
WHEN Christ the LORD would come on earth,
His messenger before Him went;
The greatest born of mortal birth,
And charg'd with words of deep intent.
The least of all that here attend
Hath honour greater far than he;
He was the Bridegroom's joyful friend,
His Body and His Spouse are we.
A higher race, the sons of light,
Of water and the Spirit born;
He the last star of parting night,
And we the children of the morn.
And as he boldly spake Thy word, And joy'd to hear the Bridegroom's voice,
Thus may Thy pastors teach, O LORD, And thus Thy list'ning Church rejoice!
TO FATHER, SON, and HOLY GHOST, The GOD Whom Heaven and earth adore,
Be glory, as it was of old,
HARK! the herald Angels sing
Glory to the new-born King!
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconcil'd!
Join the triumph of the skies;
With th' Angelic host proclaim,
Christ is born in Bethlehem!
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