In that aw­ful hour when all the tribes of men
Shall be­fore the throne of jus­tice stand,
When the deep shall yield her hid­den trea­sure,
And the dead arise from sea and land—

Refrain

Who shall be able to stand
When the King shall name His own?
When the day of hope is flown,
And we reap what we have sown,
Who shall be able to stand?

When the mount­ains and the hills shall dis­ap­pear,
And the is­lands of the sea de­part,
When the thun­ders of God’s wrath awak­en
Bitter me­mo­ries in each care­less heart—

Refrain

When the loud des­pair­ing cry of my­ri­ads lost
Shall as­cend from earth’s un­num­bered host
Who have passed the bounds of God’s for­bear­ance
And have sinned against the Ho­ly Ghost—

Refrain

Shall we sti­fle now the Spir­it’s kind­ly voice
And in tres­pass­es and sins lie dead,
While the door of mer­cy still stands op­en,
Ere the hope of par­don­ing grace is fled?

Refrain