1 The day is come, the solemn day of doom;
The Judge appears upon a shining cloud;
And all mankind is wakened from the tomb
By the archangel’s trumpet, clear and loud.
The dead come forth; and all, both small and great,
Are summoned to God’s awful judgment seat.

2 Ten thousand angels are around their Lord,
Forth issues from His throne a fiery flood;
And with the mighty mandate of His word
He separates the wicked from the good;
These on the right—those on the other hand—
Waiting their everlasting sentence stand.

3 Hide us, ye hills, ye mountains, on us fall!
With fear and piercing shrieks the guilty cry,
And to the caves and rocks for succor call,
Hide us, O hide us from His searching eye;
O save us from the fury of His ire,
From the undying worm and lake of fire!

4 But O what joys the saints of God await!
Bliss unalloyed, and sunshine without night;
Christ opens wide to them His palace gate,
And bids them drink of pleasures infinite;
God wipes all tears for ever from their eyes,
And gives to them the life that never dies.

5 Thou Christ, who came from Heav’n our wounds to cure,
And all the works of Satan to destroy,
O purify us, Lord, as Thou art pure,
That we may come to that unsullied joy,
And fashioned in Thy glorious image be,
And, by Thy grace divine, be like to Thee!