THE COMING CONQUEROR by Bishop Heber

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Apr 15, 1880

THE COMING CONQUEROR.

By Bishop Heber

AND who is he, the vast, the awful form, Girt with the whirlwind, sandaled with the storm! A western cloud around his limbs is spread, His crown a rainbow, and the sun his head. To highest heaven he lifts his kingly hand, And treads at once the ocean and the land. And hark! his voice, amidst the thunder's roar, His dreadful voice, that time shall be no more. Lo! thrones are set, and every saint is there; Lo! cherub hands the golden courts prepare, Earth's utmost bounds confess their awful sway, The mountains worship, and the isles obey; Nor sun nor moon they need, nor day nor night, God is their temple, and the Lamb their light. And shall not Israel's sons exulting come, Hail the glad beam and claim their ancient Some? On David's throne shall David's offspring reign, And the dry bones be warmed with life again. Hark! white-robed crowds their deep hosannas raise, And the hoarse floods resound the sound of praise. Ten thousand harps attune the mystic song, Ten thousand thousand saints the strain prolong— Worthy the Lamb, omnipotent to save, Who died, who lives triumphant o'er the grave! —Bishop Heber.