Jesus comes, the judge of all:
Heav’n’s bright hosts ad­ore Him;
All the peo­ple, great and small
Now must stand be­fore Him.
Crowns of glo­ry wreathe His head:
Christ, the Lord’s an­oint­ed;
Judge of liv­ing, and of dead:
Judge of old, ap­point­ed.

Heaven and earth, that stood so long
Showing forth His glo­ry,
Now are, though they seemed so strong,
Like a fin­ished sto­ry.
Caused to cease by Him whose pow­er
Gave them first a be­ing;
Lo! they per­ish from this hour:
’Tis the Lord’s de­cree­ing.

Savior, in that aw­ful day,
Keep our hearts from sink­ing;
For e’en now we feel dis­may,
Of the sea­son think­ing.
May we lift our heads that day,
Day of God’s sal­va­tion;
May we joy­ful hear Him say,
Yours a glo­ri­ous sta­tion.