Behold, He comes, the Savior comes,
Dressed in His bright array;
Awake, ye saints, and burst your tombs,
And view the glorious day.
He comes, attended from on high
With thousands, through the skies,
His glory shines; and every eye
Shall see Him with surprise.
Lo, in the clouds the Judge descends
With His illustrious train;
He severs sinners from His friends,
And dooms to endless pain.
He comes to make His justice known,
To vindicate His word:
The guilty view Him on His throne,
And wail before the Lord.
Till now they never sought His face.
Nor wept for sin before:
O how tremendous is their case!
They weep to laugh no more.
Once they despised His glorious name,
And set at naught His worth;
But now they feel, with bitter shame,
His fierce, vindictive wrath.
They now behold the saints rejoice,
And mount above the skies;
These praise the Lamb, with cheerful voice,
And triumph as they rise.
Yes, and my soul shall bear her part
In their melodious song,
My Savior’s grace shall tune my heart,
His love inspire my tongue.