O what a sound was there!
’Tis nature’s final groan:
And Je­sus bids the world appear,
Before His awful throne.

The day at length is come,
As threatened, like a snare:
A source of endless joy to some;
To others, of despair.

The Sav­ior is at hand,
Behold, He comes with clouds;
And angels, at their Lord’s command,
Appear in joyful crowds.

But who may stand this day,
Destroying far and wide?
When Heav’n and earth shall flee away,
Who can the storm abide?

The saints alone shall stand,
The people of His love;
He sets them at His own right hand,
And gives them joy above.

Into His presence brought,
They see Him face to face;
No other place His people sought,
And now He grants this grace.