1 It is the Lord! Behold His hand
Outstretched with an afflictive rod;
And hark! a voice goes through the land,
"Be still, and know that I am God."

2 Shall we, like guilty Adam, hide
In darkest shades our darker fears?
For who His coming may abide?
Or who shall stand when He appears?

3 No—let us throng around His seat;
No—let us meet Him face to face,
Prostrate our spirits at His feet,
Confess our sins, and sue for grace.

4 Who knows but God will hear our cries,
Turn swift destruction from our path,
Restrain His judgments, or chastise
In tender mercy, not in wrath?

5 He will, He will, for Jesus pleads;
Let Heav’n and earth His love record;
For us, for us, He intercedes;
Our help is nigh—it is the Lord!

6 Into His hands then let us fall,
Come health or sickness, life or death;
Whether He send us balm for gall,
Or immortality for breath.