INTO the field, the Prince of darkness, now,
Brings up his last reserve; weaves his last web,
The crowning act of his deceptive scheme;
A fraud that on the sympathies of man
Takes hold, and with a fatal sorcery
Soon draws him in the snare, and binds him fast;
A deep-laid plot! that at the very roots
Of truth and true religion, strikes most deep;
That tells the world, that, in its onward march,
It has progressed beyond the word of God;
And now must wisdom learn direct from Heaven,
Which the departed spirits of the dead,
Bringing from thence, communicate to earth.
Would men but read this truth, and as they read,
Believe, believe as 'tis most plain expressed,
That the dead know not anything, a shield
They then would have against the foul deceit:
But as it is, their own belief, itself
Erroneous, but serves to lead them on
To error, farther yet from God and truth.—
Spirits they are of devils, who go forth
Unto the kings of earth, and all the world,
Working with miracles, to gather them
Unto the last great battle-day of God.
Direct from realms of darkness do they come,
Though welcomed much as ministers of light;
Speak most blasphemous falsehoods boldly forth,
Received by many as unerring truth;
And in the very bosom of the Church,
Are planting now a fatal footing firm,
Yea, in the sacred desk, so firmly shut
Against all news of Christ's approaching reign,
These emissaries, vile, of Satan, stand,
And with all lying wonders, and deceit,
Set openly at naught the Saviour's power.
So is the Church, in her delusive dreams,
Hugging a poisonous viper to her breast;
Calmly unconscious, nursing in her midst,
A deadly reptile venomous and fierce;
Destined full soon, alas, to feel its sting.
Soon will the mighty angel cry through heaven,
Babylon the great is fallen, and is become,
A dwelling-place for devils, and a hold
Of every spirit foul; polluted cage
Of every low, unclean and hateful bird.
Such is she hastening daily to become,
And there was heard another voice in Heaven,
Saying, Come out of her my people! that
Ye of her sins be not partakers, and
Receive not of her plagues; for unto heaven
Her sins have reached, and her iniquities,
Hath God remembered; therefore shall her plagues,
In one day, mourning, death, and famine come.
Come out of her my people! yea, saith Christ,
A few names even in Sardis, yet thou hast,
Of garments undefiled, and they shall walk
With me in white; for they are worthy all,
Come out of her my people! lo, her cup
Of deep iniquity is almost full,
And now not distant, far, her plagues await.
And when they say, familiar spirits seek,
And wizards, dark, that mutter and that peep,
Should not a people then look unto God?
For, shall the living seek unto the dead?
Among my true disciples seal the law,
Among them bind the testimony sure.
If not in harmony with this they speak,
Know then that nought but darkness in them dwells.
In this behold another sign to show
How surely all events are working on,
And mark how near the consummation draws,
Yet in their evil hearts, do men delight
God's plain and certain Word to still pervert;
And from loud messages sent to proclaim
That evil cometh on the wings of wind,
They read bright tokens of approaching good.
O hypocrites! why can ye not discern
Signs of the times; and why cannot ye read
The plain hand-writing on the walls of heaven!
Ye sons of men! Ye multitudes of earth!
Traveling each way but that which leads to Heaven,
Seeking intent with fervent, tireless zeal
For everything but truth; chasing each dream,
Each phantom of the enchantments, false, of earth,
That flits across your path; now in the wild,
The mingled tumult of the giddy chase,
A moment pause, forgetting earth, the while,
And cast one honest, serious, solemn thought,
One full reflection on your blind career.
Ask if the world, with all its raging floods
Of dark iniquity, and loathsome sin,
Holding the words of God in proud contempt;
And warring hard with holiness and truth,
Can long be suffered thus to hold its course;
God, and the voice of Truth, loud answers, No!
Ask—in the wisdom of Jehovah's works,
And righteousness of purpose, if he e'er
Visits mankind in judgments, unforewarned;
The world oft punished sore in ages gone,
For frequent deeds of guilt, will answer, No!
And answer more; that with the warning comes
Space for repentance, and beseeching calls,
And earnest, loud entreaties Mercy sends,
To urge men to accept the way of life;
That when God's wrath descends, they perish not:
Warnings, alas, too oft unnoticed, all,
And calls of Mercy slighted and abused.
Behold the days of Noah! behold, and fear,
When God a warning sends, to heed it not.
Long with this guilty race did Mercy plead;
Long was the message sounding in their ears,
Of coming wo, and swift approaching death;
And oft were they entreated to return
From ways of wickedness and turn to God:
As oft in vain; for every warning note,
Slighted, if not despised, died on the air.
Infatuated race! they still must buy,
And sell, and plant, and build, and lay in store;
Must follow still th' illusive charms of earth,
E'en though a flood of wrath hung o'er their heads.
They would not turn, would not accept of life;
But blindly, madly rushed on certain death.
Ill-fated race! God, faithful to his word,
Poured on their stubborn heads th' appointed doom;
And, lo, they knew it not, e'en till the flood
Came furious down, and swept them all away.
As were the days of Noah, so, too, shall be,
The days which shall reveal the Son of man.
Another instance take, of good refused;
Of love, and truth, and mercy proudly scorned;
Of warning words, mocked and forgotten then;
Instance where men have died the death of fools,
Through their own stubborn heedlessness have died,
As best they did deserve, and was most just.
Doomed were the cities of the plain, for deeds
Of grievous sin, and deep, unequaled guilt.
But not unwarned they stood, though warned in vain,
Nor unentreated, though they heeded not;
They ate, they drank, they builded, bought and sold,
And deeper plunged in worldliness and sin:
Soon came the fires of God's fierce anger down,
And, as themselves had chosen, consumed them all,
A righteous few, a remnant, only, fled,
Fled for their lives, escaped, and so were saved.
As were the days of Lot, e'en so shall be,
The days wherein the Son of man shall come.
So at the flood, and so at Sodom's doom,
Were men forewarned; behold, a mightier scene,
Greater, by far, than these, is at the door;
So does a louder warning tell it near.
O faithless generation! if the signs,
Which ye have seen, and which ye now may see,
To mark the last expiring years of time,
Had but been seen in days before the flood,
They had repented soon, and turned to God.
Had but the cities of the plain beheld
The half of what ye see, they all had left
Their deeds of wickedness nor perished then.
Will ye then still press on the way to death?
Still chase the illusive dreams of earthly bliss?
Still let a mote of earthly pleasure hide
Away from view, worlds of eternal joy?
Still let a few short unsubstantial days
Of fleeting time, laid in the scale, outweigh
Eternity's long years of glory bright?
Let reason, for awhile, her long usurped
Dominion gain, and once direct your thoughts.
Let wisdom speak; true wisdom, not of earth,
Gross, unrefined; but wisdom pure that springs
Fresh from the fountain head of light and truth.
Think on the wondrous works and purposes
Of God! Scan from beginning earth's career,
And see if now it draws not near its close.
Mark how she scarcely staggers on with near
Six thousand years upon her aged back;
Feeble, and old and worn, with wan disease.
Behold the scenes with which, in earnest truth,
She writes her coming end. The field explore
Of prophecy; and prophecy compare
With history; events foretold, mark well,
And what have past consider and be wise.
Will ye not read and flee the wrath to come?
Room there has ever been, and e'er shall be,
That those who wish to doubt, may doubt; a place
Where unbelief may set its cloven foot:
So may ye now, tall structures rear against
The truth; but ah, ye'll find too late, alas,
Ye've only made firm gibbets for your souls.
See ye no tokens in the present age
Of fearful portent, which, with raven wing,
Dark o'er the future cast their dismal shade?
Ay! mark them well, in glaring forms, and bold,42
Of guilt and deep iniquity and sin.
With many a sounding epithet, and high,
Are fair encomiums bestowed upon
The age that is—an age of light, they say,
Of rare, unprecedented, cloudless light;
Of sciences unequaled, and advance
In arts of every form, unknown before:
So do loud cries of progress and reform,
Swell on the air; and men are all content,
To shut their eyes and hear, well-pleased, the cry,
"The world is growing better!" and know not
That swift destruction standeth at the door,
Do ye not see that 'tis the very dregs
Of near six thousand years of filthiness?
The settlings of corruptions gone before?
Mark ye not how the powers of darkness work
With all their signs and lying wonders now?
And Satan with all modes, all forms, all ways,
Of black deception, hasteth to perform
His last deep work of malice 'gainst mankind?
Will ye then let the peace and safety cry,
Still lull you on, till universal death
Shall ope its hideous jaws, and quick devour?
Will ye still slumber on the crater's mouth,
Nor heed its deep convulsions, till, at last,
Ruin's wide vortex draws you helpless down?
Will ye still blindly say that since the days
Wherein the fathers fell asleep, all things
Continue as they were, and yet inquire
Where is the promise of your Lord's approach?
Behold the angry nations, lo, their wrath
Among themselves is stirred; e'en as wild beasts
Each other watch with glaring 'vengeful eye,
And many an angry snarl, so do they cast,
Each upon each looks of resentment deep,
And sleepless jealousy; with angry brow,
Cloudy and dark with wrath, they wait to launch
Upon each other, fierce, their bolts of death.
Have ye not witnessed Famine's meagre form
Stalking abroad among the tribes of earth,
And sporting with their suffering and wo?
Have ye not witnessed giant Earthquakes rise
And 'neath their ponderous tread proud cities crush,
And raze, with proud contempt, the works of man?
Have ye not marked the Hurricane unbound?
The wild Tornado's furious, sweeping course,
Exulting proudly in its youthful strength?
And rushing Floods and hideous Pestilence,
And Fires with towering crest blazing aloft,
Mocking the feeble implements of men?
And countless in their forms, Misfortunes, dire,
Crowding unwelcome 'cross the path of life?
Have ye not witnessed these, as if they all
Were practicing to bear their part in some
Great, crowning, fatal, last catastrophe?
Ay, thus it is; the Son of God hath said
There shall be signs above, and on the earth,
Distress of nations with perplexity.
Waves roaring, and the sea, and men's hearts faint,
And failing them for fear, when they but look
For those things which are coming on the earth.
From all these signs draw ye no lessons then?
And know ye not that soon, full soon there comes
A time of trouble such as never was?—
And there was heard a voice thro' heaven, aloud,
Saying, Wo! wo! wo! to earth's inhabiters,
By reason of the other voices of
The angel trumpets, which are yet to sound,
Two have already sounded, and two woes
Are past; behold the third woe cometh soon.—
With wisdom then heed well the incipient steps
That mark its swift approach; these are the paths,
The avenues that lead direct into
The great arena of the battle-day.
Dark o'er the earth, a storm is rising fast.
With lowering front it comes, gloomy and still,
In aspect terrible; as if all wrath,
All boundless fury, all destroying power,
Were all combined and centered there for some
Great work of devastation and of death.
Deep is the shade of gloom it casts o'er earth;
While now a universal hush, as still
As dwelleth in the chambers of the dead,
Waits its approach; a hush that just precedes
The awful fury of the bursting storm.
And will ye this regard, this little space
Of peace and quietness and plenty, as
A token sure of good that's yet to come,
And calm your fears with thoughts that all is safe?
Know, then, destruction comes, ye cannot 'scape.
A few discerning minds, lights of the age,
The great men of the earth, of judgment sound,
Of foresight strong and clear, but take a glance,
A hurried glance into the future dim,
And shuddering drop the vail; they durst not scan,
Nor meditate the scenes in embryo there;
But with foreboding looks, and stifled voice,
They say man cannot the results foretell.
Man need not do it; for the Word of God
In plainest terms thus tells the issue true:
At that time Michael shall stand up, the Prince
That standeth for thy people, and a time
Of trouble shall there be as never was.
Then shall thy people, all whose names are found
But written in the book, deliverance share.
O, sinners! ye who stand before the storm,
Heedless, without a shelter, ere it burst
In fury down, a place of refuge seek.
Heed the third angel's voice, lest he shall close
His mission soon, ere you obey his call.
O haste, while yet our great High Priest remains
Within the Sanctuary's holiest place,
Shortly to finish there his final work—
Haste and repent, that all thy sins may then
Be blotted out, nor find remembrance more.
And lest the voice of Mercy suddenly
Shall cease to plead, heed her entreaty now.
This know—tho' you, tho' all the world shall stand
All unprepared to meet the avenging day,
'Twill not delay; for God hath purposed it,
And at the appointed time 'twill surely come.
Lo, on the ear, at intervals, now falls
The distant murmurings; as though e'en now
The struggling wrath was but ill stifled there;
And ever and anon, the watchful eye
Sees, fearfully flashing through the dark expanse,
Gleams of the piercing fires that lay behind:
Nor will they long be stifled; earth shall feel
Their blasting fury in a sudden hour.
Oft has the Prophet's eye, when far away
Through the long vista dim of future years
He cast a searching glance, upon this time
Rested intent; and fervently he cried,
"Alas! alas! that day! for it is great!
And like it there is none." "O would that thou
Wouldst hide me in the grave, in secret, till
Thy wrath is past." "Come ye my people in
Thy chambers enter, round thee shut thy doors,
Until the indignation passes o'er;
For lo, the Lord, the Lord omnipotent,
Ariseeth from his place, and cometh forth
To punish sore the guilty sons of men
For their iniquity, and earth shall then
Disclose her blood, and hide no more her slain."
O world! O devotees of fashion! O
Ye glittering sons of pride! Ye worshipers
At pleasure's empty shrine! of what avail
Will it soon be that ye have followed here
The paths of worldly happiness? What joy
Will the reflection bring, that ye have thrown
Your years away in chasing empty dreams—
When the time comes that ye will feel the need
Of other comfort than the world can give:
When on your unprotected heads the wine
Of God's unmingled wrath is being poured:
When ye are writhing 'neath the withering curse,
The seven vials of the final plagues;
Without one ray of hope to penetrate
The dark horizon of your bitter wo.
How will the pangs which keen reflection gives,
Pierce thro' your soul! while thoughts upon the past,
Like "waves of wormwood" in their bitterness,
Roll o'er your mind: thoughts of the time while yet
Mercy's sweet voice was heard, and there was left
A way of refuge for the sinner then:
Thoughts of the oft repeated warnings given
And earnest, long entreaties, urgent calls,
To take the way of life, to flee from death,
To leave the paths of sin, and turn your steps
To holiness and truth; and thus secure,
Against the day of wrath, a safe retreat:
Calls which ye might have heeded, if ye would,
And won the rich reward, eternal life.
How will the sad realities then rise,
The appalling sense of your condition, lost,
Before you, huge, mountains of dark despair,
To sink you down in utter hopeless wo!
Thought that no act of penitence, sincere,
Can save you then, or mitigate your doom:
Thought that no prayers, however fervent breathed,
Nor sighs, in agony of spirit raised,
Nor tears, nor supplications, e'er can reach
The throne of grace; for Mercy, wearied long,
Insulted and abused, has now retired;
And Christ, our Mediator, who has stood
That men might seek repentance, and long time
Has held the arm of righteous vengeance back,
Now pleads no more; but leaves the world exposed
Before the hot displeasure of her God.
Then shall have gone the fearful mandate forth,
"He that is filthy, filthy let him be!
He that is holy, holy may remain!"
Then shall the sword of vengeance gleam on earth,
And glut itself unsheathed in brother's blood.
Restraining grace departs, nor longer sheds
Its holy influence through the hearts of men;
While they, abandoned to the workings dark
Of their unhallowed passions, and transformed
To demons fierce, among themselves shall do
Strange deeds of blood and untold wickedness.
Each man against his neighbor lifts his hand.
Friend looks on friend, with glaring, murderous eye,
Inveterate foes; the proud, the rich, the gay,
Who have believed the lying tales of peace,
And calmly dreamed that all was well with them,
Awake, and find, too late, their dreams were false,
And shriek for help; but shriek in vain; for they
Must drink the cup their heedlessness has filled
With bitter draughts of suffering and wo.
Ye whom the soul-polluting sin of pride,
Forbids that ye should be the followers now
Of Jesus, and his humble servants join—
How will ye bear it, then, to find yourselves
With fiends, the vilest of the earth, most low,
Who never think of pity, mercy, love,
And peace; most miserable, most devilish; for
God's Spirit strives no more with fallen man?
Then shall dire pestilence among you stalk,
That walks in darkness; and in noon-day's light,
Destruction waste you down; ye shall behold
A thousand at thy side, at thy right hand
Ten thousand fall; nor shall thy hoarded wealth,
Silver, or gold, that day deliver ye.
A day of trouble and distress 'twill be;
Of wasteness and of desolation, drear;
A day of darkness, heaviness and gloom;
And God will haste and speedy riddance make
Of all the wicked dwellers in the land.
Wroth with the remnant of the woman's seed,
Who God's commandments keep and Jesus' words,
Shall be the dragon; and pursue with war;
But they, alone, will God's protection share;
In his pavilion shall they all be hid;
Beneath the shadow of his wings abide:
His truth shall be their buckler and their shield:
Terror by night they have no need to fear,
Nor pestilence, nor noon-day's wasting death:
Nigh to their dwelling plague shall never come:43
And in the final trying hour, will God,
With his almighty arm deliverance bring.
Ho, all ye people, now associate
Yourselves! Assemble and prepare; for lo,
The battle-day of Armageddon comes!
War, with his iron heel, shall scour the earth,
And drink the blood of millions; anarchy,
Among the angry nations plants his throne,
And in the horrid discord revels wild.
Come all ye fowls that fly in midst of heaven,
Gather yourselves together, that ye may eat
The flesh of captains, and the flesh of kings;
Of mighty men; of rider and of horse;
Of all both small and great, and bond and free;
For now the Beast, and all the kings of earth,
With all their armies, have arrayed themselves
To war with him whose name is Lord of lords.
'Tis the last conflict of the banded powers
Of darkness leagued against the Word of God.
Desp'rate and fierce 'twill be—the wine-press of
The anger of God's wrath—and blood shall flow
E'en to the bridles of the horses' mouths.
Then shall the long usurped dominion which
The Prince of evil holds upon the world,
Forever cease; himself dethroned; for lo,
A mightier than he has said the word,
And he whose right it is shall come to reign.
[Concluded in our next.]