1 The Lord, the Judge, before his throne, Bids the whole earth draw nigh, The nations near the rising sun, And near the western sky.
2 No more shall bold blasphemers say, "Judgment will ne'er begin," No more abuse his long delay To impudence and sin.
3 Thron'd on a cloud our God shall come, Bright flames prepare his way, Thunder and darkness, fire and storm, Lead on the dreadful day.
4 Heaven from above his call shall hear, Attending angels come, And earth and hell shall know and fear His justice and their doom.
5 "But gather all my saints," he cries, "That made their peace with God, "By the Redeemer's sacrifice, "And seal'd it with his blood.
6 "Their faith and works brought forth to light "Shall make the world confess "My sentence of reward is right, "And heaven adore my grace."