Day of wrath, O day of mourn­ing!
See ful­filled the pro­phet’s warn­ing,
Heav’n and earth in ash­es burn­ing.
Oh, what fear man’s bo­som rend­eth
When from Heav’n the Judge des­cend­eth
On whose sen­tence all de­pend­eth!

Wondrous sound the trum­pet fling­eth,
Through earth’s se­pul­chers it ring­eth,
All be­fore the throne it bring­eth.
Death is struck and na­ture quak­ing;
All cre­ation is awak­ing,
To its Judge an an­swer mak­ing.

Lo, the book, ex­ac­tly word­ed,
Wherein all hath been re­cord­ed;
Thence shall jud­gment be award­ed.
When the Judge His seat at­tain­eth
And each hid­den deed ar­raign­eth,
Nothing una­venged re­main­eth.

What shall I, frail man, be plead­ing?
Who for me be in­ter­ced­ing
When the just are mer­cy need­ing?
King of ma­jes­ty tre­men­dous,
Who dost free sal­va­tion send us,
Fount of pi­ty, then be­friend us.

Think, good 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, for sin’s pol­lu­tion
Grant Thy gift of ab­so­lu­tion
Ere that day of re­tri­bu­tion!
Guilty, now I pour my moan­ing,
All my shame with ang­uish own­ing:
Spare, O God, Thy sup­pli­ant groan­ing!

From that sin­ful woman shriv­en,
From the dy­ing thief for­giv­en,
Thou to me a hope hast giv­en.
Worthless are my pray­ers and sigh­ing;
Yet, good Lord, in grace com­ply­ing,
Rescue me from fires un­dy­ing.

With Thy fa­vored sheep, oh, place me!
Nor among the goats ab­ase me,
But to Thy right hand up­raise me.
While the wick­ed are con­found­ed,
Doomed to 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!
Day of sor­row, day of weep­ing,
When, in dust no longer sleep­ing,
Man awakes in Thy dread keep­ing!

To the rest Thou didst pre­pare me
On Thy cross; O Christ, up­bear me!
Spare, O God, in mer­cy spare me!