103. The last judgment

1 The God of glory sends his summons forth,
Calls the south nations, and awakes the north;
From east to west the sov'reign orders spread,
Thro' distant worlds and regions of the dead.
The trumpet sounds, hell trembles, heaven rejoices;
Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices.

2 No more shall atheists mock his long delay;
His vengeance sleeps no more: behold the day!
Behold, the judge descends; his guards are nigh,
Tempest and fire attend him down the sky.
When God appears, all nature shall adore him;
While sinners tremble, saints rejoice before him.

3 'Heav'n, earth and hell draw near; let all things come
To hear my justice and the sinners doom:
But gather first my saints,' the Judge commands,
'Bring them, ye angels, from their distant lands.
When Christ returns, wake every cheerful passion,
And shout, ye saints; he comes for your salvation.

4 Behold my cov'nant stands for ever good,
Seal'd by th' eternal sacrifice in blood,
And sign'd with all their names; the Greek, the Jew,
That paid the ancient worship, or the new.
There's no distinction here; join all your voices,
And raise your heads, ye saints. for Heav'n rejoices.

5 Here, saith the Lord, ye angels spread their thrones
And near me seat my fav'rites and my sons;
Come, my redeem'd, possess the joys prepar'd
Ere time began, 'tis your divine reward.
When Christ returns, wake every cheerful passion;
And shout, ye saints, he comes for your salvation.

Pause the First.

6 I am the Saviour, I th' almighty God,
The sov'reign Judge: ye heav'ns proclaim abroad
My just eternal sentence, and declare
Those awful truths that sinners dread to here.
When God appears, all nature shall adore him;
While sinners tremble, saints rejoice before him.

7 Stand forth, thou bold blasphemer, and profane,
Now feel my wrath, nor call my threat'nings vain
Thou hypocrite, once dress'd in saints attire,
I doom the painted hypocrite to fire.
Judgment proceeds, hell trembles, heav'n rejoices:
Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices.

8 Not for the want of goats, or bullocks slain
Do I condemn thee; bulls and goats are vain
Without the flames of love: in vain the store
Of brutal off'rings that were mine before.
Earth is the Lord's, all nature shall adore him;
While sinners tremble, saints rejoice before him.

9 If I were hungry, would I ask thee food?
When did I thirst? or drink thy bullock's blood?
Mine are the tamer beasts and savage breed,
Flocks, herds, and fields, and forests where they feed.
All is the Lord's; he rules the wide creation;
Gives sinners vengeance, and the saints salvation.

10 Can I be flatter'd with thy cringing bows,
Thy solemn chatt'rings and fantastic vows?
Are my eyes charm'd thy vestments to behold
Glaring in gems, and gay in woven gold?
God is the judge of hearts, no fair disguises
Can screen the guilty when his vengeance rises.

Pause the Second.

11 Unthinking wretch! how could'st thou hope to please
A God, a spirit, with such toys as these?
While, with my grace and statues on thy tongue,
Thou lov'st deceit, and dost thy brother wrong.
Judgment proceeds, hell trembles, heaven rejoices;
Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices.

12 In vain to pious forms thy zeal pretends;
Thieves and adult'rers are thy chosen friends:
While the false flatt'rer at mine altar waits,
His harden'd soul divine instruction hates.
God is the judge of hearts, no fair disguises
Can screen the guilty when his vengeance rises.

13 Silent I waited with long-suff'ring love,
But didst thou hope that I should ne'er reprove;
And cherish such an impious thought within,
That the All-holy would indulge thy sin?
See, God appears; all nations join t' adore him;
Judgment proceeds, and sinners fall before him.

14 Behold my terrors now; my thunders roll,
And thy own crimes affright thy guilty soul;
Now, like a lion shall my vengeance tear
Thy bleeding heart, and no deliv'rer near.
Judgement concludes, hell trembles, heaven rejoices;
Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices.

Epiphonema.

15 "Sinners, awake betimes; ye fools be wise;
Awake before this dreadful morning rise;
Change your vain tho'ts, your sinful works amend,
Fly to the Saviour, make the Judge your friend.
Then join, ye saints; wake every cheerful passion;
When Christ returns, he comes for your salvation.

Text Information
First Line: The God of glory sends his summons forth
Title: The last judgment
Meter: To the old proper tune
Language: English
Publication Date: 1791
Scripture:
Tune Information
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