p. 8 | The Coming of the Lord by L. D. SANTEE

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 13, 1910

The Coming of the Lord

By L. D. SANTEE

L. D. SANTEE

Up to the solemn arch my eyes are turning, And slow I see the white-winged clouds go by. For His dear presence how my soul is yearning, Who sometime will appear in yonder sky.

Still pass the days, and evening’s starry banner Follows hard after day’s retiring king; And yet I list in vain for the hosanna That all the white-robed, blood-washed throng will sing.

The morning comes, and on the earth’s broad bosom Soft see I there the wavering shadows lie; But still in vain I look to see the glory Which Christ will throw upon the arching sky.

Soon will the earth behold his chariot nearing; God to fulfil his promise is not slack. Sinners will stand aghast, with woe and fearing, When he appears upon his flaming track.

The saints will dwell at peace with Christ forever, Their feet will rest upon the jasper sea, And all the fond earth-ties that death could sever, Forevermore will reunited be.

How good the rest beside life’s flowing river, The pleasures that will span the eternal years! Blest shall we be with Christ, the gracious Giver, In joys eternal, free from pain and tears.

Up to the solemn arch my eyes are turning, And slow I see the white-winged clouds go by. My faith is strong, and still my heart is yearning For Him I shall see coming by and by.

Moline, Ill.