Oh That Day, That Day of Ire

Oh that day

that day of ire

Told of pro­phet

when in fire

Shall a world dis­solved ex­pire!

Oh what ter­ror shall be then

When the Judge shall come again

Strictly search­ing deeds of men!

When a trump

of aw­ful tone

Through the cave se­pulch­ral blown

Summons all be­fore the throne.

What amaze­ment shall o’er­take

Nature

when the dead awake

Answer to the Judge to make!

Open then the book shall lie

All o’er­writ for ev­ery eye

With a world’s ini­qui­ty.

When the Judge His place has ta’en

All things hid shall be made plain

Nothing un­av­enged re­main.

What then

wretch­ed! shall I speak?

Or what in­ter­cess­or seek

When the just man’s cause is weak?

Jesus

Lord

re­mem­ber

pray

I the cause was of Thy way:

Do not lose me on that day.

King of aw­ful ma­jes­ty

Who the saved does free­ly free

Fount of mer­cy

pi­ty me.

Tired Thou sat

still seek­ing me—

Crucified to set me free:

Let such pain not fruit­less be.

Terrible Av­eng­er

make

Of Thy mer­cy me par­take

Ere that day of ven­geance wake.

As a cri­mi­nal I groan;

Blushing deep

my fault I own;

Grace be to a sup­pli­ant shown.

Thou who Mary did for­give

And who bade the rob­ber live

Hope to me does al­so give.

Though my pray­er un­wor­thy be

Yet oh set me

gra­cious­ly

From the fire eter­nal free.

’Mid Thy sheep my place com­mand;

From the goats far off to stand

Set me Lord

at Thy right hand.

And when them who scorned Thee here

Thou hast judged to doom sev­ere

Bid me with Thy saved draw near.

Lying low be­fore Thy throne

Crushed my heart in dust

I groan:

Grace be to be a sup­pli­ant shown.