3088 8 6. 8 8 6
WHEN Thou, my righteous Judge, shalt come
   To fetch Thy ransomed people home,
    Shall I among them stand?
Shall such a worthless one as I,
Who sometimes am afraid to die,
    Be found at Thy right hand?
 
2  I love to meet among them now,
Before Thy gracious feet to bow,
    Though so far short I fall—
But can I bear the solemn thought,
What if my name should be left out,
    When Thou for them shalt call?
 
3  O Lord, prevent it by Thy grace;
Be Thou, dear Lord, my hiding-place,
    In this accepted day;
Thy pardoning voice, O let me hear!
To calm my unbelieving fear;
    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 loudest of that throng I’ll sing,
When Heaven’s resounding mansions ring
    With songs of sovereign grace.
 
Lady Huntingdon’s Hymnbook, 1774