Lo, He Comes, the King of Glory

Lo

He comes

the King of glo­ry

See

He rends the yield­ing sky;

Heav’nly flam­ing guards at­tend Him

And the fear­ful light­nings fly:

Awful gran­deur

Sinner

now thy doom is nigh!

Earth and ele­ments dis­solv­ing

Orbs of light their lus­ter lose;

The dread trum­pets sound tre­men­dous

Bid the graves their dead dis­close;

The pale na­tions

Now ap­pear as friends or foes.

Thousand times ten thou­sand stand­ing

Bow be­fore His ra­di­ant throne;

Summoned now to the tri­bun­al

What for sin­ners can be done?

Awful cri­sis

When each ray of hope is gone!

Oh

the dread­ful con­ster­na­tion

When they hear the sen­tence giv’n

Never more to be re­peal­èd

Parting them from bliss and Heav’n;

And to To­phet

In con­fu­sion they are driv’n.

Oh may I at that dread mo­ment

In the Judge be­hold a friend;

Hear His voice in loud­est ac­cents

Bid me to His throne as­cend;

Join the chor­us

That shall nev­er

nev­er end.