O That Day That Day Of Ire


Oh that day, that day of ire,
Told of prophet, when in fire
Shall a world dissolved expire!

Oh what trembling agony,
When His coming shall be nigh,
Who shall all things judge and try!

When the trumpet’s thrilling tone,
through the tombs of ages gone,
Summons all before the throne.

Death and Nature stand aghast,
When all creatures, at the blast,
Rise to answer for the past.

Open then, the book shall lie,
All overwrite for every eye,
With a world’s iniquity.

Then the Judge shall sit!–oh then
All that’s hid shall be made plain,
Unrequited naught remain.

What then, wretched! shall I plead,
Who for me shall intercede,
When the righteous scarce is freed?

King of awful majesty!
Saving souls in mercy free;
Fount of pity, save Thou me!

Oh remember, Lord, I pray,
I the cause was of Thy way;
Do not lose me on that day!