The Lord is judge—be­fore His throne
All na­tions shall His jus­tice own:
Oh may my soul be found sin­cere,
And stand ap­proved with cour­age there.

The Lord, in right­eous­ness ar­rayed,
Surveys the world His hands have made;
Pierces the heart, and tries the reins,
And judg­ment from on high or­dains.

My God, my shield! around me place
The shel­ter of the Sav­ior’s grace;
Then, when Thine arm the just shall save,
My life shall tri­umph o’er the grave.