What will you do in that great day,
When heaven and earth shall pass away;
When all the pomp and glory here
Like morning dew shall disappear;
And you, from out your lonely tomb,
Shall stand in judgment’s awful doom?
When God’s great trump shall wake the dead,
Where will you hide your once fair head;
What will you do? where can you go,
Amid that fearful scene of woe,
Where none can help, and all alone
You stand before that “great white throne”?
What will you do when lightnings flash,
This wide world quivers, thunders crash?
The “earth shall melt with fervent heat,”
But you―oh, where can you retreat?
Not e’en the grave can hide you more,
For death and hell their dead restore.
Oh, awful day! Who would not be
Sheltered, O Lamb of God, in Thee?
Safe at Thy side―when wild and loud
The shrieks of that unnumbered crowd
Shall rend the heavens, and fill the skies,
Till judgment’s doom shall close their cries.
Anon.