1 The Lord, the Judge, before his throne,
Bids the whole earth draw nigh,
The nations near the rising sun,
And near the western sky.

2 No more shall bold blasphemers say,
"Judgment will ne'er begin,"
No more abuse his long delay
To impudence and sin.

3 Thron'd on a cloud our God shall come,
Bright flames prepare his way,
Thunder and darkness, fire and storm,
Lead on the dreadful day.

4 Heaven from above his call shall hear,
Attending angels come,
And earth and hell shall know and fear
His justice and their doom.

5 "But gather all my saints," he cries,
"That made their peace with God,
"By the Redeemer's sacrifice,
"And seal'd it with his blood.

6 "Their faith and works brought forth to light
"Shall make the world confess
"My sentence of reward is right,
"And heaven adore my grace."