When the na­tions be­fore Him are ga­thered,
When the sea shall sur­ren­der its dead,
When the trum­pet’s last blast shall have sound­ed,
And the books shall be op­ened and read—
When the earth and the stars in their trem­bling,
From the face of their mak­er shall flee—
When the day of pro­ba­tion is end­ed,
Careless soul, is it no­thing to thee?

You may stand be­fore Him, if you want to,
In your man­tle of shame and of sin;
You may hear Him dis­own and de­ny you,
When you see the re­deemed en­ter in;
You may join with the lost in their sor­row,
When you find there is no mer­cy still,
And be cast from His pre­sence for­ev­er—
You may do all these things if you will.

You may stand in that day, if you want to,
His own child by the blood of His Son;
You may hear from the lips that have called you,
Enter into thy joys, bless­èd one!
You may sweep thro’ the gates of that ci­ty,
Heaven’s rap­ture your spi­rit may thrill;
Your home­com­ing by an­gels at­tend­ed—
All these joys may be yours if you will.