The Last Judgment; or, The Saints Rewarded

1 The LORD, the Judge, before His throne
Bids the whole earth draw nigh,
The nations near the rising sun,
And near the western sky.
Throned on a cloud our God shall come,
Bright flames prepare His way;
Thunder and darkness, fire and storm,
Lead on that dreadful day.

2 "But gather all my saints," He cries,
That made their peace with God
By the Redeemer's sacrifice,
And sealed it with His blood.
"Their faith and works, brought forth to light
Shall make the world confess,
My sentence of reward is right,
And heav'n adore my grace."

3 Thus says the LORD, "The spac'ous fields,
And flocks, and herds, are mine;
O'er all the cattle of the hills
I claim a right divine."
"I ask no sheep for sacrifice,
Nor bullocks burnt with fire;
To hope and love, to pray and praise,
Is all that I require."

4 "Call upon me when trouble's near,
My hand shall set you free;
Then shall your thankful lips declare
The honor due to me.
The man that offers humble praise,
He glorifies me best;
And those that tread My holy ways
Shall My salvation taste."


Source: Psalms of Grace #50b

• MIDI file from The Cyber Hymnal #3930