When Thou, my righteous Judge shall come
To take Thy ransomed people home,
Shall I among them stand?
Shall such a worthless worm as I,
Who sometimes am afraid to die,
Be found at Thy right hand?
I love to meet Thy people now,
Before Thy gracious feet to bow,
Though vilest of them all:
But can I bear the piercing thought?
What if my name should be left out,
When Thou for them shalt call?
O Lord, prevent it by Thy grace;
Be Thou my only hiding place,
In this, th’accepted day;
Thy pardoning voice oh let me hear,
To still my unbelieving fear,
Nor let me fall, I pray.
Among Thy saints let me be found
Whene’er th’archangel’s trump shall sound,
To see Thy smiling face;
Then loudest of the crowd I’ll sing,
While heaven’s resounding mansions ring,
With shouts of sovereign grace.