THE GATHERING OF THE ELECT.
By Uriah Smith
“And He shall send his angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heaven to the other.” Matt. 24:31. Whom will the angels to glory call,
When a doomed race is to ruin hurled?
When the great day of God’s wrath shall fall,
Sudden, remediless, on the world?
Not for the great ones will search be made,
Not for the mighty on thrones of power,
Not for the warriors, through blood who wade—
No call for these in that awful hour. Whom will the angels be sent to bear,
Honored and loved to their Saviour’s side?
Not the decked form of the millionaire,
Not the blind devotee of pride.
Ne’er will the questions by them be raised,
Who has acquired an honored name?
Who by the fickle crowd is praised?
Who stands high on the roll of fame? These are the baubles of fading earth,
Sought alone by the sons of night;
Never with gems of heavenly worth,
Rank they of value in God’s pure sight.
Heaven regards the upright in heart,
Prizes a spirit meek and mild,
Sets for its endless bliss apart
Him who is harmless and undefiled. They who wrestle with doubt and sin,
Who to the tempter ne’er basely yield,
Heroes in the stern strife within,
On the heart’s unseen battle-field,
Seeking, but not for mortal fame,
Mercy and goodness, truth and love,
Scorning alike earth’s praise and blame,
Making their record right above— These are the jewels the Lord will own,
Guests he will bid to his banquet hall,
Slighted on earth, despised, unknown,
Heaven’s high honors now on them fall.
Such find glory at last their home,
Borne in triumph from land and sea—
And when for such the angels come,
Oh! will they come for you and me?