In that dread and aw­ful day,
When life’s glo­ries fade away,
And the wound­ed, way­worn soul
Spurns all bounds, and breaks con­trol;
Hide me, Son of Ma­ry, hide
In Thy cleft­ed, riv­en side.

When the mount­ains reel and sway,
When the stars shall dark­ling stray,
When old Ocean’s rug­ged roar
Beats each rock bound coast no more;
Then, O Son of Ma­ry, hide—
Hide me in Thy cleft­ed side!

When the Babe of Beth­le­hem
Builds the new Je­ru­sa­lem,
When all Heav’n, and earth and hell
Shall con­fess that all is well,
Then, Thou Son of Ma­ry, hide—
Hide me in Thy riv­en side.