1 The Lord will come: the earth shall quake,
The hills their fixèd seat forsake;
And, withering from the vault of night,
The stars withdraw their feeble light.
2 The Lord will come: but not the same
As once in lowly form He came,
A silent Lamb to slaughter led,
The bruised, the suffering, and the dead.
3 The Lord will come: a dreadful form,
With wreath of flame, and robe of storm,
On cherub wings, and wings of wind,
Anointed Judge of human-kind.
4 Can this be He who wont to stray
A pilgrim on the world's highway;
By power oppress'd, and mock'd by pride?
O God! is this the Crucified?
5 Go, tyrants, to the rocks complain;
Go, seek the mountain's cleft in vain;
But faith, victorious o'er the tomb,
Shall sing for joy, The Lord is come.
Hymnal: according to the use of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America 1871