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He Is Coming

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D. C. · Feb 13, 1913

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 90, No. 7.

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He Is Coming

By Eugene Rowell

EUGENE ROWELL
He is coming is far sounding in the raging of the sea; On the age-decaying mountains it is graven deep in stone; It is borne upon the tempest when the wolves of storm are free; And the valleys far reecho, “He is coming to his own.”
In the early glow of morning and the sunset’s living flame, All the heaven is written over with splendor of his name: He is coming, he is coming to his everlasting throne.
He is coming. We behold it in the faces of the throng; It is in the clanging chorus of the song that labor sings; In the marketing of virtue and the arrogance of wrong It is borne o’er land and ocean with the speed of eagle’s wings. In the darkness of the midnight and the glory of the noon Earth and sea and sky proclaim it, he is coming very soon: He is coming, he is coming, Lord of lords and King of kings.
“He is coming,” say the banners of our legions ranked for war; In an undertone it rumbles through the rolling of the drum; It is in the strife of nations and the flight of wingèd car: Lo, the proud of earth shall tremble and her kings fall pale and dumb; And as leaves before the tempest, wicked men shall flee his wrath, When he wraps the earth in vengeance and destruction marks his path; But the ransomed of the Lord shall cry, “Hosanna! He is come!”