p. 88 | The Gathering Call

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Dec 11, 1855

The Gathering Call.

Long upon the mountains, weary, Have the scattered flock been torn; Dark the desert paths, and dreary, Grievous trials have they borne. Now the gathering call is sounding, Solemn in its warning voice; Union, faith and love abounding, Bid the little flock rejoice.

Now the light of truth they're seeking, In its onward track pursue; All the ten commandments keeping, They are holy, just and true. On the words of life they're feeding, Precious to their taste so sweet; All their Master's precepts heeding, Bowing humbly at his feet.

In that world of light and beauty, In that golden city fair, Soon its pearly gates they'll enter, And of all its glories share. There divine the soul's expansions; Free from sin, and death, and pain; Tears will never dim those mansions Where the saints immortal reign.

Soon, He comes! with clouds descending; All his saints, entombed, arise; The redeemed in anthems blending, Shouts of victory through the skies. O we long for thine appearing, Come, O Saviour! quickly come! Blessed hope! our spirits cheering, Take thy ransomed children home.