Lo, the right­eous Judge des­cend­ing,
In full glo­ry through the sky,
Suns and stars have veiled their splen­dor,
While their king is pass­ing by:
Now His sig­nal
Tells us that the judg­ment’s nigh.

Bands ce­les­ti­al all around Him,
Bow obe­di­ent to His word;
Hear arch­an­gel sound the trum­pet,
See the dead to life re­stored;
In a mo­ment,
They as­cend to meet their Lord.

Gather all My saints, ye an­gels,
Who were made your spe­cial care;
Fly to earth’s re­mot­est re­gions,
Bring My ran­somed child­ren near;
That to glo­ry
They may all with Me re­pair.

But the sin­ner, then con­found­ed,
Will with awe the Judge sur­vey,
Hear his dread­ful doom an­nounc­èd,
And re­tire in deep dis­may;
Self con­vict­ed,
To the death­less worm a prey.