1 The glor­ious day is com­ing,
The hour is roll­ing on,
Its ra­di­ant light is beam­ing,
Resplendent as the sun;
In yon bright clouds of heav­en
The Sav­ior will ap­pear,
And ga­ther all His chos­en
To meet Him in the air.

2 Then fire, from God des­cend­ing,
Shall sweep this wide earth o’er,
And na­tions, loud la­ment­ing,
Shall sink to rise no more,
Though tears with groans are blend­ed
Yet still in vain they cry;
The day of hope is end­ed:
The si­nner now must die.

3 But saints shall be vic­tor­ious,
And joy to meet the Lord;
An earth more bright and glor­ious
Is pr­omised in His word.
Our God Him­self, there reign­ing,
Shall wipe all tears away;
No clouds or night re­main­ing,
But one eter­nal day.

4 O, Christ­ian! wake from sleep­ing,
And let your works ab­ound;
Be watch­ing, pray­ing, weep­ing,
For soon the trump will sound
O, sin­ner! hear the warn­ing;
To Je­sus quick­ly fly!
Then you on that blest morn­ing
May meet Him in the sky.