THE WARNING VOICE by Uriah Smith

Publishing Committee · Rochester, N. Y. · Aug 11, 1853

THE WARNING VOICE

By Uriah Smith

-OF-

TIME AND PROPHECY.

Part II. [Concluded.]

ONCE did the Saviour come, lowly and meek, To pay the penalty for guilty man, And point the way to never-ending life. Once more he comes; but not as then he came; He comes a king, to whom all power is given In Heaven and earth, and all dominion given; With honor crowned, and in the glory of His Father, clothed with heavenly majesty; For flaming vengeance on the nations, armed; And all Heaven's holy angels him attend; He comes victorious, he comes to reign; To rule the nations with a rod of iron; Descending with the loud Arch-angel's voice, The trump of God, and trembling earth shall reel, And quick before the lightning of his eye, The wicked perish and consume away.

The dead shall hear his voice, the righteous dead, Who living served, and dying, sleep in him, Shall hear and rise, with immortality Then clothed upon, and with the living saints, Immediate changed, corrupt to incorrupt, By shining angel bands be gathered up To meet the Lord, and realize their hope. Then shall this mortal, immortality Put on; then shall the Lord, the righteous Judge, To all who his appearing love, first give The crown of life; and all the saints receive Their harps of gold; and on the sea of glass With fire commingled, standing, sing the song Of Moses and the Lamb, and sound the notes In one triumphant strain, of victory.

Then through the massy gates, each gate a pearl, Enter the City, bright, for them prepared, Decked with the glory of its maker God; And like a jasper stone, the light thereof, As crystal clear; and all whose holy streets, With purest gold, even like transparent glass, Are dazzling paved; which ever fair reflect Bright back again the living gorgeousness; And never-fading splendors ceaseless glow; And beauty answers beauty, deep'ning still, And grandeur, grandeur, ever leading on Through scenes of glory, new, ineffable.

There stands the throne of God and of the Lamb, With light encircled, unapproachable; Whence rolls its ever pure and crystal stream, The river of life, on whose eternal banks, From either side, and high o'erarching stands, Bright in possession of its living bloom, The tree of life, in fadeless majesty: Whose golden fruit with silvery-blended hues, Twelve kinds it monthly yields, freely for all; Of glorious immortality, sure pledge.

Radiant in light the holy City stands; Nor hath it need of moon, or shining sun; For God's surpassing glory lightens it, And through its gates of pearl, night never comes. And he who sat upon the throne, hath said, Behold anew all things do I create: Heaven hears the word, and earth, and blooms afresh In all its Eden beauty, as when first, At the Almighty's will, it sprung to life;

Ere man's revolt had breathed a blight upon Its pristine glory and its vernal bloom.

Once wert thou fair, O Earth, in loveliness; Once full perfection bore through all thy forms; And vigorous stood, and fresh in youthful strength; But ah, not long; man in his rashness siezed The fatal fruit, and trespassed God's commands, And broke the barrier of thy defense: From hence thy history and thy life grew dark. A visible pang of death through all the works Of shuddering nature ran; all that was once So fair, so good, so lovely, so adorned, Beneath the scorching breathings of the curse, Distorted, withered, faded, drooped and died. Sky, once serene, with sombre tempests lowered, And muttering, frowned on earth a gloomy frown, And cast o'er all her works a dismal shade.

Among the beasts, peaceful, so late, and tame, War sprung; and savage howls were heard; and blood Thirsted for blood, and raged, and fought, and strove. The birds their songs of harmony and joy, Forgot; and at the eagle's piercing scream, Tremblingly heard, and quick affrighted fled. And Peace, and Loveliness, and Beauty, took, With sad, reluctant step, their final leave; And some few foot-prints, faint, some shadows, dim, Were all they left on earth; thistles and thorns, Where once they trod, in dread abundance sprung, As if to mock their former, glorious reign.

Man opened thus the gaping flood-gates, wide, Of Sin and Death, who inward rushed, apace, With all their direful retinue, deformed; Loathsome disease, with countless hideous shapes, And keen and racking pains, and cheerless grief, Misfortunes, and a thousand eating ills, That eat the happiness of life away; These, Adam thus let in; these him destroyed; And these, on all his offspring down the stream Of time, have ever busy warred, and fixed Their deadly fangs, and worn and wasted down, Till Death, e'er active on his ceaseless rounds, Comes in at last to gather up the spoils. Thus do they hasten on both man and beast, And thus all living, and all lifeless things, Down through the crumbling alleys of decay.

And must this ever be? Must ever thus God's glorious design frustrated stand? Not ever! for mankind's Redeemer, he, The Son of God, the Second Adam, will, What our first parents lost, doubly restore. He Sin and Death will conquer and destroy, And raze each vestige of their baleful reign; And close, for aye, their flood-gates, wide, of wo; And Nature's face renew, and far remove The fetters of the curse from all her works; And Peace, and Loveliness, and Beauty, call Down once again from their abodes of bliss, To range in glory o'er the earth renewed.

In youthful freedom, then will earth again Rejoice, its fetters broken, and its voice Long choked by Sin and Death to notes of wo, Shall rise in anthems loud of grateful joy. All shall be Eden, all be paradise, The garden of the Lord; abundantly, With joy and singing shall the desert bloom, And blossom as the rose, and Lebanon's Bright glory share, and Carmel's excellence. The solitary places shall be glad;

For in the wilderness, thus saith the Lord, The cedar will I plant, the shittah tree, The oil-tree and the myrtle, and will set The fir-tree in the desert, and the pine And box together, that they all may see, And know, and understand, that I, the Lord, The God of Israel, have created it. The signet of the curse, thistles and thorns, Now seen no more, shall be forgotten; and Fair in their place the fir-tree shall come up. And for the brier, the myrtle tree shall grow; And streams of laughing joy, shall fresh break forth Within the desert, and a smiling pool Shall the parched ground become; the thirsty land, Well-springs of living water gushing forth. No poison-breathing swamps, nor marshes foul, With noxious breath pollute the crystal air; Nor dark sulphurous tempests rend the skies; But all shall lovely be, all shall be pure.

The trees shall clap their hands, and fields shall smile, Bright in the cloudless sunshine of their God, And fear no blasting storms, nor fear decay. No turbid waters in the streams shall flow, But fountains, pure, make glad the face of earth. All with abundance swells; in tree and flower, And shrub, and creeping vine, and clustering fruit And lawn and fertile field, behold no lack. Thus to its primal purity restored, Thus glorious and beautiful shall be The earth renewed, the saints' eternal home. And then shall be the tabernacle of God With men; and he himself shall dwell with them, And be their God and they his people be. There shall all tears from every eye be wiped; Sorrow and crying there are never heard; There death comes not, and pain shall be no more, Nor sin shall ever there an entrance find; For lo, the former things are passed away.

Haste then, O Earth, haste and fulfill complete, The appointed circles of thy gloomy course. Time in his warning voice, proclaiming loud That his last trembling sands are falling now, Has a sweet tone for thee; it tells, thy years Of mourning, wo and grief are closing fast; It tells thee that the deep, dark stains of blood, With which, from age to age, thy soil has been Disfigured, shall be washed away; that thou Shall shortly lay aside thy garments old, And stiff with gore, and stained with many a scene Of man's foul deeds, iniquity and crime; And soon 'mid crowning scenes of war and blood, Of fire and smoke, thy dark career shall close. Then Prophecy takes up her golden harp, And rolls enraptured numbers o'er the theme, The matchless glories of thy second birth, When Christ shall reign and God be all in all.

Ye raging Storms, that rend the sky in wrath, And hurl your thunderbolts of death upon A world below—with all your strength rage on! Soon comes the time when ye shall be no more. Ye Earthquakes strong, gaunt Famine, Pestilence, Disease and Death—perform your wasting work Of desolation yet a little while; For on you soon eternal night shall fall. Ye blighting Breaths that creep o'er Nature's face— Ye pestilential Airs, that fix your grasp Upon earth's fairest spots, and rankle there—

Ye sad Waste Places, who delight to hold In sullen gloom your solitary reign— Enjoy your cheerless work while yet you may; For soon your places shall be known no more. Ye hosts of Evil Passions, who have reigned, Offspring of Sin, within the hearts of men— A little space is left you yet, to rule; To urge men on in wickedness; but lo, Your days are numbered, and your tomb prepared. In the great, final day, all these shall die A death that has no hope of life again.

So will earth's Great Restorer renovate, And overturn and purify, till not, In all his wide domain, one lingering scar Of Death's defacement stays, or mark of Sin; They with their works for ever, now, destroyed, And in the universe renewed, for them Will ne'er a secret lurking place be found. Thus will at last, the dire effects, in full, Of man's first disobedience, be repaired, And all that then was lost, doubly restored; God's great design fulfilled, that earth should be The bright abode of man sinless and pure;— For then will all, all the redeemed of men, Through Christ the Son, to God be reconciled, And never more, in word or act displease; But crowned with songs, and everlasting joy Upon their heads, reign with their glorious King; For in his beauty, as he is, shall they Behold him there, and to his glorious form, Fashioned, be like him then. Corroding fear, On perfect joy that every bosom swells, Wages no war; for Peace, in heavenly garb, Wide o'er the earth her holy wings shall spread. Blood thirsts no more for blood, nor enemy, Couches to man in beast or serpent now. The poisonous tooth and deadly sting, shall here Be known no more; and on the aspic's den, The infant child unharmed shall gleeful play. Peace with her golden scepter rules the world; The lamb fears not to see the wolf approach; The leopard with the kid shall calm lie down; The calf, the fatling, and the lion young, Together; and a little harmless child Shall lead them all; for nought shall there destroy In all my holy mountain, saith the Lord.

Hail Earth renewed! Celestial Paradise! Fit dwelling place, with all thy loveliness, Thy long reproach for ever wiped away, And fairer now than when at first thy God Pronounced thee good—fit dwelling place, so pure, So beauteous, so adorned with smiling peace, For all the saints, all the redeemed of men; Who through thy gates, immortal City fair, Thy gates of pearl, will freely enter in, Where violence and riot never come, And walk thy bright and dazzling streets of gold; And to the stream of life, the crystal stream Fast by the throne of God, have access free; And from the tree of life, high arching o'er, Pluck the eternal fruit and eat and live; And in thy glad'ning smiles, O King of saints! Glory unspeakable possess; for in Thy presence bright, there fullness is of joy, At thy right hand, pleasures for ever more.

Lift up your heads, and shout aloud for joy! Ye heirs of glory! your redemption comes! Your day of glorious triumph draweth nigh! Ye on whose brow already care has worn His furrows deep, fresh courage take; for soon, A crown of life shall shed its lustre there. Let hope spring up anew to cheer you on; For you are taking now the last sad steps Within this wilderness of darkness drear.

O Church of Philadelphia! Christ hath said, Before thee have I set an open door, And none can shut it; for thou yet hast left A little strength, and thou hast kept my word And not denied my name; lo I will make Them of the synagogue of Satan, who Profess that they are Jews, while they are not; And they shall come and worship at thy feet. And that thou hast my word of patience kept, Therefore will I preserve thee from the hour, The strong temptation hour, which soon shall come, On all the world to try the sons of men. Lo! I come quickly! Hold fast what thou hast That no man take thy crown; for unto him That overcometh, will I grant to be A pillar in the temple of my God.

Then lift your voices loud and sing ye saints! Sing honor, praise, and glory unto God, Who gives us foretaste of the coming joy To cheer our weary way; who grants so great, So precious prize to crown so short a race. Soon in the holy City shall we strike Our golden harps, to glory's anthems tuned. Earth's toil will then be done, earth's care all o'er, Its woes, its griefs, its passions and its tears, All gone and all forgotten; while we raise, With seraphim and high arch-angel joined In silver tones our hallelujahs, loud, Wide o'er the fields of bliss; and Heaven shall ring With high hosannas, and sweet notes of joy; While we ascribe, glory, and power and might, All power, all glory, and all majesty, Blessing and honor to our God, and to The Lamb, who hath redeemed us by his blood, To reign with him in glory evermore And share his blessing, ages without end. Rochester, N. Y., 1853.