The morning grays, the moment now is near,
When the archangel’s voice from heaven is heard,
When our loved Lord, descending, will appear,
To change and raise the ransomed by that Word.
What triumphs then! what songs our lips employ!
When Jesus’ love and beauty wake our praise,
When naught of sin or self to mar our joy,
Salvation’s song eternal we shall raise.
O wondrous theme! what wisdom of our God
To make His enemies supremely blest!
For thousand, thousand sinners, cleansed by blood,
In God’s own home above shall find their rest.
Awake, ye saints, awake, His coming nears;
Count all here loss (in Christ all things are yours);
By watching faithfully, when He appears,
Spending for Him these last few fleeting hours.