O What Terror In Thy Forethought


O what terror in thy forethought,
Ending scene of mortal life!
Heart is sickened, reins are loosened,
Thrills each nerve, with terror rife,
When the anxious heart depicteth
All the anguish of the strife!

Christ, unconquered King of glory!
Thou my wretched soul relieve
In that last extremest terror
When the body she must leave:
Let the Accuser of the brethren
O’er me then no power receive!

Let the Prince of darkness vanish,
And Gehenna’s legions fly!
Shepherd, Thou Thy sheep, thus ransomed,
To Thy country lead on high,
Where for ever in fruition
I may see Thee eye to eye!