p. 7 | The Last Enemy by Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Jul 30, 1912

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 39, No. 29.

The Last Enemy

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Pray, who art thou, so dread, so gaunt, Thou specter grim of field and fen? Who art thou, thus to curse and haunt The precincts of the sons of men? I've seen thee flit, with noiseless wing, From sheol's dark and gruesome night, And o'er our sweetest pleasures fling A fear, a mildew, and a blight.

What awesome dread thy presence brings! Thy cruel hand no man may stay! Thou heedest not the prayer of kings, Nor man nor angel bids thee nay. Thy pestilential banner waves O'er lowly cot and stately tower. A hundred thousand new-made graves All testify thy mighty power.

And then I heard a dismal word, And felt an awesome, chilling breath; In nameless fear a voice I heard: "O child of earth, my name is Death. I rule on land, I rule on sea, On battle-fields 'mid clang and din; The fairest realms belong to me — My home is earth; my sire is Sin.

"And once," the mocking voice made boast, "Once, from the shining heavens afar, From blazing throne and angel host, The Magi saw a gleaming star; But I was there, and quick I sped To Bethlehem's streets, and hovered near, While angels wept o'er infants dead, And frenzied Rachels moaned with fear.

"And once again, with sable wing, On wild Golgotha's height I stood, And smiling heard the clamor ring — The loud, insistent cry for blood. My fingers sped the awful dart With might unparalleled, I ween, With icy hand I chilled His heart — The mighty, godlike Nazarene."

"Hold, monster of the nether gloom!" I cried aloud with eager breath; "He rose a Victor o'er the tomb — My Master broke thy seal, O Death! And all the dead shall hear His voice, And dust and darkness backward fling: 'O Death, where is thy victory? O Grave, where is thy sting?'"

Lansing, Michigan.