The Day Approaches O My Soul

The day approaches, O my soul!
The great decisive day,
Which from the verge of mortal life
Shall bear thee far away.

Another day more awful dawns,
And, lo, the Judge appears.
Ye heav’ns, retire before his face;
And sink, ye darken’d stars.

Yet does one short preparing hour,
One precious hour remain:
Rouse thee, my soul, with all thy pow’r,
Nor let it pass in vain.

With me, my brethren soon must die,
And at his bar appear:
Then be our intercourse improv’d
To mutual comfort here.

For this, thy temple, Lord! we throng:
For this, thy board surround.
Here may our service be approv’d,
And in thy presence crown’d.