Lift up thy head, O Christendom!
Behold above the blessed home
For which thy heart is yearning.
There dwells the Lord, thy soul’s delight,
Who soon with power and glory bright
Is for His bride returning.
And when in every land and clime,
All shall behold His signs sublime,
The guilty world appalling,
Then shalt with joy thou lift thine eyes
And see Him coming in the skies,
While suns and stars are falling.
While for His coming thou dost yearn,
Forget not why His last return
The Savior is delaying,
And ask Him not before His hour
To shake the heavens with His power,
Nor judge the lost and straying.
O saints of God, for Sodom pray
Until your prayers no more can stay
The judgment day impending.
Then cries the Lord: “Behold, I come!”
And ye shall answer: “To Thy home
We are with joy ascending!”
Then loud and clear the trumpet calls,
The dead awake, death’s kingdom falls,
And God’s elect assemble.
The Lord ascends the judgment throne,
And calls His ransomed for His own,
While hearts in gladness tremble.