John Ecob

The Trump of God will one day sound
and the mystery church will not be found;
The Lord will call to all His Own
And the saints on earth will know the tone.

The Trump of God will sound so clear
and after that the earth will fear;
For seven seals will spell out doom
And men on earth will seek a tomb.

The Trump of God will bring great fear
As millions here will disappear;
Some from their bed and from the mill
And those who plow the earth to till.

The Trump of God and Michael’s voice
Will call the Jews to make a choice;
A northern army will appear
To put the nation in great fear.

The Trump of God will be so brief
As suffering saints find sweet relief;
Their earthly journey now complete
They gather home at Jesus’ feet.

The Trump of God will call the bride
To gather at the Bridegroom’s side;
Her future now will be so bright
Arrayed in garments pure and white.

The Trump of God will ope’ the door
To where the Saviour went before;
He said He would return one day
And take us home with Him to stay.

O Saviour, Lord, Thou Bridegroom sweet
Arise, and call us to thy feet;
We watch, and wait, and look above
To know the fulness of thy love.
To know the fulness of thy love.

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This