The Last Trumpet | AdventAI

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Michigan · Aug 2, 1864

The Last Trumpet.

"The trumpet shall sound, and the dead in Christ shall rise first."—PAUL.

THE hour of our glory is coming! is coming! The hour of redemption from darkness to light; When the dust-hidden jewels shall glisten, aye, glisten, With beauty and luster transcendently bright! The trumpet, as say inspiration's bright pages, From the wave-hidden caves of the ocean shall call, The millions of sleepers, whom ages on ages Have held undisputed fast bound in their thrall.

The far-stretching desert, whose sands ever shifting, No dews ever know save the tears of its slain, Shall send forth its victims by thousands on thousands; Sun-bleached though they be, they shall waken again. By the low-gushing fountain, where resting in slumber, The travel-worn pilgrim has lain down to die; The battle-field gory—the garden, the mountain— The marble sarcophagus, tenants supply.

From the wild wood and coppice, where murder, foul murder, In darkness and silence hath hidden her slain; Ambition's deep dungeons, the clods of the valley, All, all shall enfranchise their prisoners again, When the last trumpet sounding shall send forth its millions, Awakening the echoes of Heaven and hell— To the saints 'twill be music life-given and glorious, But ah! to the wicked a final farewell.

Oh, haste the glad moments, haste glorious Redeemer, And may faith-gilded patience our bosoms prepare To stand in the season of trying temptation, Rejoicingly faithful each burden to bear; Wide spread forth your pinions, ye ministering angels, To buoy up and strengthen each cross-burdened saint, To leave every error, surmount every danger, And journeying on, neither falter nor faint.