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And will the Judge descend 
And will the Judge descend, And must the dead arise And not a single soul escape His all discerning eyes? 
And from his righteous lips Shall this dread sentence sound And through the numerous guilty throng Spread black despair around: 
“Depart from me, accursed, To everlasting flame, For rebel angels first prepared, Where mercy never came”? 
How will my heart endure The terrors of that day When earth and heav’n before his face Astonished shrink away? 
But ere that trumpet shakes The mansions of the dead, Hark from the Gospel’s cheering sound What joyful tidings spread: 
Ye sinners, seek his grace Whose wrath ye cannot bear; Fly to the shelter of his cross And find salvation there. 
(1702-1751) 
First published in Hymns Founded on Various Texts in the Holy Scripture, By the Late Reverend Philip Doddridge, 
D.D. 
by Job Orton (1755)