’Tis He! ’Tis He! The Son of God!

’Tis He! ’Tis He! The Son of God!

He sends His aw­ful voice abroad:

Let earth her Lord rev­ere!

With thou­sand saints be­hold Him come;

The world be­fore her judge is dumb

And waits her doom to hear.

He calls to Heav­en

He calls to earth;

The na­tions from their tombs come forth

And throng be­fore His face.

Approach

ye

first

the Sav­ior cries

Whose boast is in My sac­ri­fice

And co­ve­nant of grace.

My peo­ple

hear! Your God will speak:

No emp­ty rites and forms I seek

No spe­cious act or word:

Mine eye is on the heart with­in

And there the serv­ice must be­gin

That sa­tis­fies the Lord.

Where sec­ret wick­ed­ness I see

The fawn­ing lip or bend­ing knee

But move My scorn and hate!

Lord

on our souls this truth im­press

And make us all that we pro­fess

Ere yet it be too late!