There’s an awful day of trouble
Such as men have never known,
When God shall call the nations
To judgment at His throne,
And when that day shall come, the
Saints will lift their heads and cry,
For Him we’ve long been waiting,
But His coming draweth nigh.
How oft we’ve asked each other
I wonder when He’ll come;
I get so tired waiting,
I’m sure it can’t be long:
For angels said He’d come again
The day He went on high;
And Jesus said,
For My coming draweth nigh.
It may be in the evening,
Or it may be early dawn,
Or at the midnight hour when
The Lord again shall come;
So let us then be ready all
To meet Him in the sky,
Like faithful servants waiting,
For His coming draweth nigh.
How awful for the wicked
When that day at last shall come,
And God shall call both great and small
To meet the final doom,
Then to the rocks and mountains
They’ll make a piteous cry,
To hide them from His presence;
Lo, His coming draweth nigh.