Day of wrath, that day dis­may­ing,
Shall ful­fill the pro­phet’s say­ing,
Earth in smol­der­ing ash­es lay­ing.

Oh, how great the dread, the sigh­ing,
When the Judge, the All-des­cry­ing,
Shall ap­pear, all sec­rets try­ing.

Then shall ring the trump’s weird knell­ing
Through each tomb and char­nel dwell­ing,
All be­fore the throne com­pel­ling.

Death shall stand in con­ster­na­tion;
Nature quake; and all cre­ation
Rise to an­swer the ci­ta­tion.

From the book shall shine the writ­ing,
All the by-gone past re­cit­ing,
And the world of sin in­dict­ing.

Then the Judge shall sit, re­veal­ing
Hidden deed, word, thought, and feel­ing,
And to each just sen­tence deal­ing.

What shall wretch­ed I be cry­ing,
To what friend for suc­cor fly­ing,
When the just in dread are sigh­ing?

King of might and awe, de­fend me!
Freely Thy sal­va­tion send me!
Fount of pi­ty, save, be­friend me!

Think, kind Je­sus, my sal­va­tion
Caused Thy won­drous in­car­na­tion:
Leave me not to re­pro­ba­tion!

Faint and wea­ry Thou hast sought me;
On the cross of suf­fer­ing bought me:
Shall such grace be vain­ly brought me?

Righteous Judge of re­tri­bu­tion,
Grant Thy gift of ab­so­lu­tion,
Ere that reck­on­ing day’s con­clu­sion!

Guilty, now I pour my moan­ing,
All my shame with ang­uish own­ing:
Spare, O God, Thy sup­pli­ant groan­ing!

Thou the sin­ful wo­man savedst:
Thou the dy­ing thief for­gav­edst:
And to me a hope vouch­saf­est.

Worthless are my pray­ers and sigh­ing,
Yet, good Lord, in grace com­ply­ing,
Rescue me from fires un­dy­ing!

With Thy fa­vored sheep O place me:
Nor among the goats ab­ase me,
But to Thy right hand up­raise me.

While the wick­ed are con­found­ed,
Doomed in flames of woe un­bound­ed:
Call me, with Thy saints sur­round­ed.

Low I kneel, with heart-sub­mis­sion:
See, like ash­es, my con­tri­tion:
Help me in my last con­di­tion!