WHAT ARE THE SIGNS OF THY COMING ?
By Sel.
Why drag thy chariot wheels, O Time ?
How slow the moving hours ?
When will thy buds, O “blessed hope,”
Expand to perfect flowers ?
When will the black and weary night,
So full of sins and sighs,
End, and the dawn of righteousness
Upon the world arise ? The earth rocks with eternal throes,
Her crust is red with blood;
As from his wine-vats “horrid war”
Pours out a crimson flood!
Crowns tremble ’neath His “iron rod,”
Thrones sway in every blast,
Dark shadows of events to come
Upon the world are cast! The fire-fiend, with his torch alight,
Steals on the sleeping town,
And marble mansion—temple—tower—
Before its touch go down.
The stately pillars of our pride,
On which we placed our trust,
Like Jonah’s gourd, in one brief hour
Are levelled with the dust. The cyclone with its stormy wings,
Goes forth at God’s decree,
And shipwrecks strew the coral coast
That guards the Indian Sea.
The pestilence with fetid breath
Comes up from slum and pen,
And stalks through hall and pauper hut
To take the lives of men. No golden sheaves lift up their heads
On Persia’s stricken plains;
Her fiery sun goes down in wrath,
For God withholds the rains.
Sin’s siren voice and vampire wings
Have lulled the church to sleep,—
The faithful few alone are found
The Master’s watch to keep. Are these His signal flags unfurled,—
His watch-fires in the night,
To tell us of His near approach
Who brings the promised light?
Then “lift your heads,” ye weeping ones!
“Look upward” through your tears!
Your “night of sorrow” soon shall end
In Heaven’s eternal years.
—Sel.