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At the last trump.
1 Cor. 15:52.

I. Williams.

The chariot! the chariot! its wheels roll in fire,

As the Lord cometh down in the pomp of his ire;

Lo! self-moving, it drives on its pathway of cloud;

And the heavens with the burden of Godhead are bowed.

2 The glory! the glory! around him are poured

Mighty hosts of the angels that wait on the Lord;

And the glorified saints, and the martyrs are there,

And there, all who the palm-wreaths of victory wear!

3 The trumpet! the trumpet! the dead have all heard;

Lo! the depths of the stone-covered charnel are stirred!

From the sea, from the earth, from the south, from the north,

All the vast generations of men are come forth.

4 The judgment! the judgment! the thrones are all set,

Where the lamb and the bright-crownéd elders are met!

There all flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord,

And the doom of eternity hangs on his word.

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