THE DAY TO COME by Frances E. Bolton

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Aug 16, 1905

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 31, No. 33.

THE DAY TO COME.

By Frances E. Bolton

BY FRANCES E. BOLTON.

WE hear men speak of better days, As days long past and fled, As tho no room were here for praise, And love itself were dead; But every day is sent from heaven, And every day is blest; To every mortal heart is given The chance to be the best.

What! are these last days worse than those That once were swept by flood? Or worse than when time reeked with woes, And dripped with martyrs' blood? The chance to be most blest is here, This is a glorious time, The soul may rise without a fear, And face a life sublime.

O, rather, let us hold a light To win men up the way, Than point them ever to the blight That sweeps across our day. Instead of gloomy, iron face, Let's show to men the glory That waits a godlike, noble race, And lights the way before thee.

If times are dark, the sequel's fair; No night was ever given, But God had kept a morning rare To spread its wings from heaven. "The morning cometh," saith the seer, He pointed first to light, "The morning cometh," have no fear, Tho "also comes the night."

Be ready for the morning time, Be ready for the dawn, Rouse up from slumber, fresh and fair, And with thy garment on. For O the morning time is near, A dawn of endless day, And ever and forevermore Earth's shadows flee away.