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1 Methinks the last great day is come, Methinks I hear the trumpet sound That shakes the earth, rends every tomb, And wakes the prisoners under ground. 2 The mighty deep gives up her trust, Aw'd by the Judge's high command; Both small and great now quit their dust, And round the dread tribunal stand. 3 Behold the awful books display'd, Big with th' important fates of men; Each deed and word now public made, As wrote by heaven's unerring pen. 4 To every soul, the books assign The joyous or the dread reward: Sinners in vain lament and pine, No pleas the Judge will here regard. 5 Lord, when these awful leaves unfold, May life's fair book my soul approve; There may I read my name enroll'd, And triumph in redeeming love. | The Cyber Hymnal #9453 Hymns, Selected and Original: for public and private worship (1st ed.) #734 (1828) A Collection of Hymns and Prayers, for Public and Private Worship #392 (1845) The Hartford Selection of Hymns from the Most Approved Authors: to which are added a number never before published #CCCLXXII (1799) The Hartford Selection of Hymns: from the most approved authors: to which are added a number never before published (2nd ed.) #CCCLXXII (1802) A Collection of Evangelical Hymns #CXCVIII (1793) A Selection of Hymns: from the best authors, intended to be an appendix to Dr. Watt's psalms and hymns. (1st Am. ed.) #DLXXI (1792) |