When Rising from the Bed of Death

When ris­ing from the bed of death

O’erwhelmed with guilt and fear

I see my mak­er face to face

O how shall I ap­pear?

If yet

while par­don may be found

And mer­cy may be sought

My heart with in­ward hor­ror shrinks

And trem­bles at the thought;

When Thou

O Lord

shalt stand dis­closed

In ma­jes­ty sev­ere

And sit in judg­ment on my soul

O how shall I ap­pear?

But Thou hast told the trou­bled mind

Who does her sins la­ment

The time­ly tri­bute of her tears

Shall end­less woe pre­vent.

Then see the sor­row of my heart

Ere yet it be too late;

And hear my Sav­ior’s dy­ing groans

To give those sor­rows weight.

For nev­er shall my soul des­pair

Her par­don to pro­cure

Who knows Thine on­ly Son has died

To make her par­don sure.