1
When Thou, my righteous Judge, shalt come,
To call Thy ransomed people home,
Shall I among them stand?
Shall such a worthless worm as I,
Who sometimes am afraid to die,
Be found at Thy right hand?
Be found at Thy right hand?

2
I love to meet among them now,
Before Thy gracious throne to bow,
Though weakest of them all;
Nor can I bear the piercing thought,
To have my worthless name left out,
When Thou for them shalt call,
When Thou for them shalt call.

3
Prevent, prevent it by Thy grace!
Be Thou, dear Lord, my hiding place
In that expected day.
Thy pardoning voice, O let me hear,
To still each unbelieving fear,
Nor let me fall, I pray,
Nor let me fall, I pray.

4
Let me among Thy saints be found,
Whene'er the Archangel's trump shall sound,
To see Thy smiling face;
Then joyfully Thy praise I'll sing,
While heaven's resounding mansions ring
With shouts of endless grace,
With shouts of endless grace.