My flesh shall slumber in the ground
Till the last trumpet's joyful sound;
Then burst the chains with sweet surprise,
And in my Saviour's image rise.
Then shall I see, and hear, and know,
All I desired or wish'd below;
And every power find sweet employ
In that eternal world of joy.
THE Lord, the judge, before his throne
Bids the whole earth draw nigh;
The nations near the rising sun,
And near the western sky.
No more shall bold blasphemers say
"Judgement will ne'er begin:"
No more abuse his long delay
To impudence and sin.
Throned on a cloud our God shall come, Bright flames prepare his way: Thunder and darkness, fire and storm, Lead on the dreadful day.
Heaven from above his call shall hear,
Attending angels come,
And earth and hell shall know and fear
His justice and their doom.
ENFIELD'S COLLECTION.
The final judgement of the world.
THE heart dejected sighs to know
Why vice triumphant reigns below;
Why saints have fall'n in every age
The victims of tyrannic rage.
Fast roll successive years away;
Fast hastens the important day,
When, to the astonisht world's surprise,
God's high tribunal shall arise.
Hark! 'tis the trumpet's piercing sound;
The rising dead assemble round;
In long procession see they come,
Each to receive his final doom.
Lo, there, a vile degenerate race;
Pale terror sits on every face:
Here, on the right, a joyful band,
The sons of suffering virtue stand.
The sentence past, lo, these arise
To bliss and glory in the skies;
While those, who once stood high in fame,
Sink down to long contempt and shame.
Thus shall God's providence appear
Without a shade divinely fair;
And blushing doubt with joy confess,
The Lord's a God of righteousness.
GREAT God! what do I see and hear?
The end of things created!
The Judge of mankind doth appear
On clouds of glory seated!
The trumpet sounds! the graves restore
The dead which they contain'd before!
Prepare, my soul, to meet him.
[Sun! stand thou still. Josh. x. 12.]
"STAND still, refulgent orb of day!"
A Jewish hero cries:
So shall at last an angel say,
And tear it from the skies.
A flame intenser than the sun
Shall melt his golden urn;
Time's empty glass no more shall run,
Nor human years return.
Then, with immortal splendour bright,
That glorious orb shall rise,
When through eternity shall light
The new-created skies.
On the bright ranks of happy souls Those blissful beams shall shine; While the loud song of triumph rolls, In harmony divine.
O let not sordid base desire,
The soul's dark rayless night,
Unfit us for heaven's sacred choir,
Or God's eternal light!
EXULTING, rejoicing, hail the happy morning,
The morn of the day when our Christ was born!
Angels of mercy, who his birth attended,
O bear our loud hosannas through the sky!
O bear &c.
Salvation proclaiming to the guilty nations,
He comes in the glory and power of God:
Angels of mercy, who his steps attended,
O bear our loud hosannas through the sky!
O bear &c.
Devoted, submissive, on the cross expiring,
He bows to the will of his father, God:
Angels of pity, who his death attended,
O bear our loud hosannas through the sky!
O bear &c.
Adapted to the tune of the Portuguese hymn "Adeste,
|