1 The day approaches, O my soul!
The great decisive day,
Which from the verge of mortal life
Shall bear thee far away.
2 Another day more awful dawns,
And, lo, the Judge appears.
Ye heav'ns, retire before his face;
And sink, ye darken'd stars.
3 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.
4 With me, my brethren soon must die,
And at his bar appear:
Then be our intercourse improv'd
To mutual comfort here.
5 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.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | The day approaches, O my soul! |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1814 |
Topic: | Judgment and the End of the World |