Behold, what light rolls back the sky?
What fear and trepidation!
The trumpets blast a vict’ry cry
For ransomed congregations.
And leading them, their sovereign head,
Is Christ the judge of quick and dead,
No doubt or atheistic thought
Shall then deny God’s power.
Those who against his gospel fought
Shall wail and gnash and cower.
For those who claim they could not know,
Creation’s witness here below
Condemns them in that hour.
The spirit-called and blood-redeemed
Shall have full vindication,
Enjoying God with bliss undreamed
In holy consummation.
And those that sleep in Christ, who rise
With flesh made new before their eyes,
Then let our voice erupt in song
In prayer for His returning.
Be pleased, Lord, not to tarry long
To end creation’s yearning.
Acquitted at your judgment seat,
We’ll cast our crowns before your feet—
Not ours but Christ’s the earning.