God of glo­ri­ous ma­jes­ty,
Whose judg­ments are abroad,
Pierce, and turn our hearts to Thee
With sac­red hor­ror awed;
All this drow­sy land awake,
And by the thun­der of Thy pow­er
Shake, our in­most spir­its shake,
And let us sleep no more.

Rising in Thy dread­ful might
The wicked to re­buke,
Thou hast with un­wont­ed fright
Our sleep­ing bo­dies shook;
Earth did to her cen­ter quake,
Convulsive pangs her bow­els tore;
Shake, our in­most spir­its shake,
And let us sleep no more.

Ere the threat­ened ru­in come,
A ge­ne­ral ter­ror dart,
Send the keen con­vict­ion home
To ev­ery thought­less heart;
Shake us out of Sa­tan’s hands,
Burst open ev­ery pri­son door,
Rouse, and loose us from our bands,
And bid us sin no more.

Jesus, Lord, to whom we cry,
The true re­pent­ance give,
Give us at Thy feet to lie,
And tremble, and be­lieve;
On the Rock of Ag­es place
Our souls, till all the wrath is o’er,
Ground, and ’stab­lish us in grace,
And bid us sin no more.