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152b Messiah


He comes! He comes! to judge the world,
Aloud th’archangel cries;
While thunders roll from pole to pole,
And lightnings cleave the skies.
Th’affrighted nations hear the sound,
And upward lift their eyes;
The slumb’ring tenants of the ground
In living armies rise.

Thou awful judge of quick and dead,
The watchful pow’r bestow.
So shall I to my ways take heed,
To all I speak or do.
If now Thou standest at the door,
O let me feel Thee near;
And make my peace with God,
Before I at Thy bar appear.


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