Thou God of glo­ri­ous ma­jes­ty,
To Thee, against my­self, to Thee,
A worm of earth, I cry;
A half-awak­ened child of man;
An heir of end­less bliss or pain;
A sin­ner born to die!

Lo! on a nar­row neck of land,
’Twixt two un­bounded seas I stand,
Secure, in­sen­si­ble;
A point of time, a mo­ment’s space,
Removes me to that hea­ven­ly place,
Or shuts me up in hell.

O God, mine in­most soul con­vert!
And deep­ly on my thought­ful heart
Eternal things im­press:
Give me to feel their so­lemn weight,
And trem­ble on the brink of fate,
And wake to right­eous­ness.

Before me place, in dread ar­ray,
The pomp of that tre­men­dous day,
When Thou with clouds shalt come,
To judge the na­tions at Thy bar;
And tell me, Lord, shall I be there
To meet a joy­ful doom?

Be this my one great bu­si­ness here,
With se­ri­ous in­dus­try and fear
Eternal bliss to en­sure;
Thine ut­most couns­el to ful­fill,
And suffer all Thy right­eous will,
And to the end en­dure.

Then, Sav­ior, then my soul re­ceive,
Transported from this vale to live
And reign with Thee above;
Where faith is sweet­ly lost in sight,
And hope in full su­preme de­light,
And ev­er­last­ing love.