Behold, He Comes, the Savior Comes

Behold

He comes

the Sav­ior comes

Dressed in His bright ar­ray;

Awake

ye saints

and burst your tombs

And view the glo­ri­ous day.

He comes

at­tend­ed from on high

With thou­sands

through the skies

His glo­ry shines; and ev­ery eye

Shall see Him with sur­prise.

Lo

in the clouds the Judge des­cends

With His il­lus­tri­ous train;

He sev­ers sin­ners from His friends

And dooms to end­less pain.

He comes to make His jus­tice known

To vin­di­cate His word:

The guil­ty view Him on His throne

And wail be­fore the Lord.

Till now they nev­er sought His face.

Nor wept for sin be­fore:

O how tre­men­dous is their case!

They weep to laugh no more.

Once they des­pised His glo­ri­ous name

And set at naught His worth;

But now they feel

with bit­ter shame

His fierce

vin­dic­tive wrath.

They now be­hold the saints re­joice

And mount ab­ove the skies;

These praise the Lamb

with cheer­ful voice

And tri­umph as they rise.

Yes

and my soul shall bear her part

In their me­lo­di­ous song

My Sav­ior’s grace shall tune my heart

His love in­spire my tongue.