1 Behold! with awful pomp,
The Judge prepares to come,
Th’archangel sounds the dreadful trump,
And wakes the general doom.

2 Nature, in wild amaze,
Her dissolution mourns;
Blushes of blood the moon deface,
The sun to darkness turns.

3 The living look with dread;
The frighted dead arise—
Start from the monumental bed,
And lift their ghastly eyes.

4 Horrors all hearts appall;
They quake, they shriek, they cry;
Bid rocks and mountains on them fall,
But rocks and mountains fly.

5 Ye willful wanton fools,
Let danger make you wise,
Carnal professors, careless souls,
Unclose your lazy eyes.

6 ’Tis time we all awake,
The dreadful day draws near;
Sinners, your profound presumption check,
And stop your wild career.

7 Now is th’accepted time;
To Christ for mercy fly;
O turn, repent, and trust in Him,
And you shall never die.

8 Great God, in whom we live,
Prepare us for that day;
Help us in Jesus to believe,
To watch, and wait, and pray.