p. 1 | THE END IS NEAR

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 1, 1857

"THE END IS NEAR."

Clouds of darkness gathering o'er us, awful tidings with them bear; Scenes of misery spread before us—rumors reaching us from far— All in one loud piercing chorus, tell us that the end is near.

Hearts of men within them failing, for the coming woes they fear— All their efforts unavailing—no propitious signs appear— Sin increasing, crime prevailing, tell us that the end is near.

Selfishness is all abounding—gold, the idol, everywhere, Worshiped by a host confounding for all that's good and fair— Crowds, the mammon god surrounding, tell us that the end is near.

Lawlessness so vastly spreading, void of reverence, awe or fear— Sacred things beneath it treading stamped with God's own signature, Never once his vengeance dreading, tell us that the end is near.

War, that heaviest curse of nations, running on its dread career; While the mass its desolations listless or applauding hear, War, with its abominations, tells us that the end is near.

Saints of God all evil hating, faithful to the name they bear, For their coming Saviour waiting, caught up in the air; Thence their rest and blessing dating—tell us that the end is near.

Sinner, wouldst thou in the glory of that cloudless morning share? Wouldst thou have this hope before thee?—wear the crown that saints will wear? Now believe redemption's story—look to Christ—the end is near!

Let not earth, thy thoughts engrossing, cheat thee of that portion fair; Look to Christ; on him reposing thou shalt happy be, nor fear— Sinner haste! the day is closing—look to Christ—the end is near!