Behold, the Son of God Appears

Behold

the Son of God ap­pears

And in His flesh our sins He bears;

The Vic­tim at God’s al­tar stood

To ex­pi­ate guilt by groans and blood.

But lo

a se­cond time He comes

To shake the earth

and rend the tombs;

These heav’ns be­fore Him melt away

And suns and stars in smoke de­cay.

Yet

midst this ge­ne­ral wreck and dread

Ye saints

with tri­umph lift the head:

With glad sur­prise your Sav­ior meet

Who comes to make your bliss com­plete.

My soul

a hap­pi­ness so great

With pleas­ing ex­pec­ta­tion wait;

And while I dwell up­on the thought

Be earth and all its toys for­got.

My Sav­ior God

what grace is Thine

Which gives a pros­pect so di­vine!

Come

bless­èd day

and teach our tongues

How an­gels war­ble out their songs.