THE WARNING OF THE SEERS.
By Pauline Fife
What bodes this world-wide thirst For blood; this marshaling Of nations small and great; These calls for men to fling Their lives away for naught? Afar doth justice stand. Storms rage; and thousands fall ’Neath famine’s awful hand. Down thru the ages come The warning words of seers And prophets, whom the Lord Gave visions of the years Of woe which should precede His coming and the reign Of righteousness and peace, For which the Lamb was slain. That generation which Shall see the darkened sun, The falling of the stars, And mighty wonders done In heaven and earth, shall see The earth run red with gore, And hear the whole world groan; Then time shall be no more. But still the mad world’s rush For honor, fame, and gold Goes on. Unheeded is The doom by saints foretold. In drunken sleep men lie— The Gift of God forgot. The day of vengeance dawns— And yet they know it not. O thou by whom is heard This warning, rouse; prepare Thy soul for that great day. Before thy God lay bare Thy heart, and cleanse thee from All sin, if thou wouldst sing In triumph over death And sin, when comes the King. Go warn the world. Cry out, “The day of wrath is near, When men shall hide in dens And mountain caves for fear Of Him who sitteth on The throne, before whom none Shall stand save those to whom The Lord shall say, ‘Well done.’”