Signs of Christ's Coming.
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? Crowns tremble 'neath His "iron rod,"
Thrones sway in every blast;
Dark shadows of events to come
Upon the world are cast! The stately pillars of our pride,
On which we placed our trust,
Like Jonah's gourd, in one brief hour
Are leveled with the dust. The pestilence, with fetid breath,
Comes up from slum and pen,
And stalks through hall and pauper hut
To take the lives of men. Are these His signal-flags unfurled—
His watchfires 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.