The Coming Crisis by Amos E. Flint

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Jun 6, 1911

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 38, No. 22.

The Coming Crisis

By Amos E. Flint

O'ER distant mountains, bleak and gray, Comes reddening dawn of heav'n-born day; Earth's long, dark night is almost o'er, Supernal day is at the door.

As budding trees tell o'er the land That summer days are near at hand, So signs portend from year to year That earth's great harvest day is near.

'Tis spent almost,—earth's dreary night,— And fades before the orient light, While higher creeps, with silv'ry ray, The day-star that foretells the day.

No faithful watch earth's millions keep, But slumber and repose in sleep, Until destruction bursts around, And shakes the trembling, broken ground.

Then slumb'ring ones, with wild dismay, Arouse to dread and shun the day When shall appear the Judge of all, And they for rocks and mountains call.

Where shall the sinners find a stay When bursts in pow'r that wrathful day? 'Twill sadly be in vain to call, "Ye rocks and mountains, on us fall!"

That day is nigh! Unmingled, dire, Will be His judgments and His ire; And none can hope to flee His wrath, Save those who tread the narrow path.

Awake! seek Heaven's shelter now, Ere shadows gather on thy brow; For soon destruction opens wide In awful pow'r on every side.

Then come to-day, while mercy pleads, And for the sinner intercedes; While yet He'll grant His quick'ning pow'r To flee destruction's dreadful hour.

Granger, Washington.