THE COMING DAY by Eliza H. Morton

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Jan 10, 1906

THE COMING DAY.

By Eliza H. Morton

BY ELIZA H. MORTON.

THIS life is one of strange uncertainty, A leaf that trembles on a slender twig, A cloud that hurries o'er the noonday sky, A reed that bends and breaks before the wind. The days go on as sparkling waters rush, And thoughtless, careless, is the heart of man.

But soon a mighty change we'll see, for He Who holds the ocean in His hand and guides The planets in their course, forgets no child Of earth. His care is over all His works. How strong is God! How sure the Word of Life!

The prophets tell us of a day to come, Of days—the last, a day of clouds and gloom, And yet when dawns that day, the current strong Of worldliness will start to onward flow, The merry laugh will ring out on the air, The active brain be planning future work, The heavy trains be rushing o'er the land, The bride before the altar stand with smiles Of love; the festive board be spread and guests Be thronging to the feast; the skilful hand Be rearing costly structures, high and grand; The student with his books be dreaming dreams Of fame to come; the noise of busy toil At labor's loom, be heard adown the street.

But hark! a trumpet sounds forth loud and clear, A mighty quaking of the earth throws down The buildings high. The railway trains all stop, No more to move. The mills shut down, no more To give employ. All earthly trusts dissolve, The heavens wrinkle backward as a scroll, The graves give up their dead, and Christ Appears upon a cloud to vengeance take On all who know not God. O, awful day! And yet not thus to those who look for Him, For they with joy will shout and sing and praise His holy name, and changed and glorified Will meet Him in the air, to live for aye.