The Trumpet’s Solemn Sound

The trum­pet’s so­lemn sound

The lightn­ings spread abroad

The op­en­ing skies

the shak­ing ground

Proclaim a com­ing God.

Behold

the Judge at hand

With ma­jes­ty and pow­er;

The tribes of men be­fore Him stand

Some trem­ble

some ad­ore.

Each act­ion

word and thought

Now stripped of all dis­guise

To the im­par­tial test is brought

Exposed be­fore His eyes.

Now cause­less fears sub­side

False hopes no more be­guile

Whilst His uner­ring hands di­vide

The pre­cious from the vile.

The one He calls by name

And seats them near His throne;

The oth­er fills with grief and shame

And dooms to woes un­known.

Then be it all my care

Each hour to watch and pray;

And oh may sov­er­eign grace pre­pare

For that tre­men­dous day!