Thou Judge of quick and dead

Thou Judge of quick and dead,
Before whose bar severe,
With holy joy or guilty dread,
We all shall soon appear;
Our cautioned souls prepare
For that tremendous day,
And fill us now with watchful care,
And stir us up to pray.

To pray and wait the hour,
That awful hour unknown,
When, robed in majesty and power,
Thou shalt from heaven come down,
Th' immortal Son of man,
To judge the human race,
With all thy Father's dazzling train,
With all thy glorious grace.

To damp our earthly joys,
T' increase our gracious fears,
Forever let the archangel's voice
Be sounding in our ears
The solemn midnight cry,
"Ye dead, the Judge is come!
Arise, and meet him in the sky,
And meet your instant doom!"

O may we thus be found
Obedient to thy word,
Attentive to the trumpet's sound,
And looking for our Lord.
O may we all insure
A lot among the blest,
And watch a moment to secure
An everlasting rest.