1 That awful day will surely come,
Th' appointed hour makes haste,
When I must stand before my Judge,
And pass the solemn test.
2 Thou lovely Chief of all my joys,
Thou Sovereign of my heart!
How could I bear to hear thy voice
Pronounce the sound, depart!
3 Oh, wretched state of deep despair,
To see my God remove,
And fix my doleful station where
I must not taste his love!
4 Oh, tell me that my worthless name
Is graven on thy hands;
Show me some promise in thy Book,
Where my salvation stands.
Source: The Voice of Praise: a collection of hymns for the use of the Methodist Church #924
|First Line:||That awful day will surely come|
|Title:||That Awful Day Will Surely Come|