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. |