| I dreamed that the great judgment morning
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| Had dawned, and the trumpet had blown;
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| I dreamed that the nations had gathered
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| To judgment before the white throne;
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| From the throne came a bright, shining angel
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| And he stood on the land and the sea
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| And he swore with his hand raised to Heaven
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| That time was no longer to be
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| And, oh, what a weeping and wailing
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| As the lost were told of their fate;
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| They cried for the rocks and the mountains
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| They prayed, but their prayer was too late
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| The rich man was there, but his money
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| Had melted and vanished away;
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| A pauper he stood in the judgment
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| His debts were too heavy to pay;
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| The great man was there, but his greatness
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| When death came, was left far behind!
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| The angel that opened the records
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| Not a trace of his greatness could find
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| The widow was there with the orphans
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| God heard and remembered their cries;
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| No sorrow in heaven forever
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| God wiped all the tears from their eyes;
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| The gambler was there and the drunkard
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| And the man that had sold them the drink
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| With the people who gave him the license
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| Together in hell they did sink
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| The moral man came to the judgment
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| But self-righteous rags would not do;
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| The men who had crucified Jesus
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| Had passed off as moral men, too;
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| The soul that had put off salvation
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| Not tonight; |
| I ll get saved by and by
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| No time now to think of religion!
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| At last they had found time to die |