1 Behold the awful trumpet sounds,
The sleeping dead to raise,
And calls the nations under ground;
O how the saints will praise!
2 Behold the Saviour how he comes
Descending from his throne,
To burst asunder all our tombs,
And lead his children home.
3 But who can bear that dreadful day,
To see the world in flames;
The burning mountains melt away,
While rocks run down in streams.
4 The falling stars their orbits leave,
The sun in darkness hide;
The elements asunder cleave,
The moon turn'd into blood.
5 Behold the universal world
In consternation stand,
The wicked into hell are turn'd
The saints at God's right hand.
6 O then the music will begin,
Their Saviour God to praise;
They are all freed from every sin,
And thus they'll spend their days.
Source: Hymns and Spiritual Songs for the use of Christians #99