1 Soon shall the trum­pet spread
Its ani­mat­ing sound—
Awake, arise, ye nu­mer­ous dead,
Ye na­tions un­der­ground.

2 The so­lemn call’s ob­eyed,
In won­drous crowds they come,
Reluctantly, and all di­smayed,
To hear their fi­nal doom.

3 Be that im­port­ant day
Impressed up­on my mind,
Let me with con­stant fer­vor pray,
That I may mer­cy find.

4 Oh let my heart re­joice,
To find the Judge my friend;
His love shall then at­tune my voice,
When time and na­ture end.