  1106L. M. The day of the Lord will come. The Lord will come, the earth shall quake, The hills their fixÉd seat forsake; And withering, from the vault of night, The stars withdraw their feeble light. 2 The Lord will come, but not the same As once in lowly form he came; A silent Lamb to slaughter led, The bruised, the suffering, and the dead. 3 The Lord will come—a dreadful form, With wreath of flame, and robe of storm, On cherub wings, and wings of wind, Anointed Judge of human kind. 4 While sinners in despair shall call, “Rocks, hide us! mountains, on us fall!” The saints, ascending from the tomb, Shall joyful sing—“The Lord is come!” 1107L. M. The great day of his wrath. That day of wrath! that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away! What power shall be the sinner’s stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day? 2 When shriveling like a parchÉd scroll, The flaming heavens together roll; When, louder yet, and yet more dread, Swells the high trump that wakes the dead; 3 O, on that day, that dreadful day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be thou, O God, the sinner’s stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away. 1108C. M. Because I live, you shall live also. When, downward, to the darksome tomb, I thoughtful turn my eyes, Frail nature trembles at the gloom, And anxious fears arise. 2 Why shrinks my soul? in death’s embrace Once Jesus captive slept; And angels hovering o’er the place, His lowly pillow kept. 3 Thus shall they guard my sleeping dust, And, as the Saviour rose, The grave again shall yield her trust, And end my deep repose. 4 My Lord, before to glory gone, Shall bid me come away; And calm and bright shall break the dawn Of heaven’s eternal day. 5 Then let my faith each fear dispel, And gild with light the grave; To him my loftiest praises swell, Who died from death to save. 1109S. M. And to wait for His Son from heaven. In expectation sweet, We wait, and sing, and pray, Till Christ’s triumphal car we meet, And see an endless day. 2 He comes! the Conqueror comes! Death falls beneath his sword; The joyful prisoners burst their tombs, And rise to meet their Lord. 3 The trumpet sounds—Awake! Ye dead, to judgment come! The pillars of creation shake, While hell receives her doom. 4 Thrice happy morn for those Who love the ways of peace; No night of sorrow e’er shall close Upon its perfect bliss. 1110S. M. Awake and sing, you that dwell in dust. Rest for the toiling hand, Rest for the anxious brow, Rest for the weary, way-worn feet, Rest from all labor now; 2 Soon shall the trump of God Give out the welcome sound That shakes thy silent chamber-walls, And breaks the turf-sealed ground. 3 Ye dwellers in the dust, Awake! come forth and sing; Sharp has your frost of winter been, But bright shall be your spring. 4 ’Twas sown in weakness here; ’Twill then be raised in power: That which was sown an earthly seed, Shall rise a heavenly flower. 111111s. At the last trump. The chariot! the chariot! its wheels roll in fire, As the Lord cometh down in the pomp of his ire; Lo! self-moving, it drives on its pathway of cloud; And the heavens with the burden of Godhead are bowed. 2 The glory! the glory! around him are poured Mighty hosts of the angels that wait on the Lord; And the glorified saints, and the martyrs are there, And there, all who the palm-wreaths of victory wear! 3 The trumpet! the trumpet! the dead have all heard; Lo! the depths of the stone-covered charnel are stirred! From the sea, from the earth, from the south, from the north, All the vast generations of men are come forth. 4 The judgment! the judgment! the thrones are all set, Where the lamb and the bright-crownÉd elders are met! There all flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord, And the doom of eternity hangs on his word. 1112P. M. He will swallow up death in victory. Lo! the seal of death is breaking; Those who slept its sleep are waking; Heaven opes its portals fair! Hark! the harps of God are ringing; Hark! the seraph’s hymn is flinging Music on immortal air. 2 There, no more at eve declining, Suns without a cloud are shining O’er the land of life and love; There the founts of life are flowing, Flowers unknown to time, are blowing In that radiant scene above. 3 There no sigh of memory swelleth; There no tear of misery welleth; Hearts will bleed or break no more; Past is all the cold world’s scorning, Gone the night, and broke the morning, Over all the golden shore. 11136s & 5s. For the trumpet shall sound. The last lovely morning, All blooming and fair, Is fast onward fleeting, And soon will appear. CHORUS. While the mighty, mighty, mighty trump Sounds, Come, come away, O, let us be ready to hail the glad day. 2 And when that bright morning In splendor shall dawn, Our tears shall be ended, Our sorrows all gone. 3 The Bridegroom from glory To earth shall descend, Ten thousand bright angels Around him attend. 4 The grave shall be opened, The dead shall arise, And with the Redeemer Mount up to the skies. 5 The saints then immortal In glory shall reign, The Bride with the Bridegroom For ever remain. |
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