Classic Poem

BATH A BBLY Tune .

Christ the Lord will come again,
None shall wait for him in vain;
I shall then his glory see,
Christ will come, and call for me.
Not as when his humble birth
Grac'd the meanest place on earth;
Not as when his tender heart
Bled with sympathetic smart;

Not as when for us he stood
Surety to an injur'd God;
Not as when our sins he bore,
Gash'd with wounds, and bath'd in gore;
But with trumpet's awful sound,
With immortal glory crown'd;
On a bright celestial throne,
Our Redeemer will come down.

Then, when his Almighty voice
Shakes the earth, and rends the skies,
Rising millions will proclaim
Our Emmanuel's glorious name.
" This is our redeeming God!"
Ransom'd host's will shout aloud,
" Praise, eternal praise, be giv'n,
" To the Lord of earth and heaven!"

Oh, that I may then be found,
With them, rising from the ground!
Joining their immortal song,
With a new celestial tongue!
Let us own the Saviour's name.
Where the wicked count it shame;
Then the righteous Judge will own
Our's before his Father's throne.