When rising from the bed of death,

o’erwhelmed with guilt and fear,

I see my Maker face to face,

O how shall I appear!

If yet while pardon may be found,

and mercy may be sought,

My heart with inward horror shrinks,

and trembles at the thought;

When thou, O Lord! shalt stand disclosed

in majesty severe,

And sit in judgment on my soul,

O how shall I appear!

But thou hast told the troubled mind,

who doth her sins lament,

That timely grief for errors past

shall future woe prevent.

Then see the sorrows of my heart,

ere yet it be too late;

And hear my Saviour’s dying groans,

to give those sorrows weight.

For never shall my soul despair

of mercy at thy throne,

Who knows thine only Son has died

thy justice to atone.