The Voice That Wakes the Dead

Verse 1

Thou Son of God, whose flaming eyes Our inmost thoughts perceive, Accept the evening sacrifice, Which now to thee we give.

Verse 2

We bow before thy gracious throne, And think ourselves sincere: But shew us, Lord, is every one Thy real worshiper?

Verse 3

Is here a soul who knows thee not, Nor feels his want of thee? A stranger to the blood, which bought His pardon on the tree?

Verse 4

Convince him now of unbelief, His desperate state explain: And his fill his heart with sacred grief, And penitential pain.

Verse 5

Speak with that voice, which wakes the dead, And bid the sleeper rise, And bid his guilty conscience dread The death that never dies.

Verse 6

Extort the cry, what must be done To save a wretch like me? How shall a trembling sinner shun That endless misery?

Verse 7

I must this instant now begin Out of my sleep to wake; And turn to God, and every sin Continually forsake.

Verse 8

I must for faith incessant cry, And wrestle, Lord, with thee: I must be born again, or die To all eternity.