The Advent.
Those who’ve heard the proclamation
Of a coming Saviour near,
Will behold him in great splendor,
When in clouds he shall appear.
He will come; this generation
Will not pass till all is o’er.
Signs foretell he’s now approaching,
And is even at the door.
Oh! what scenes will burst upon us,
When the heavens and earth shall shake,
When the trump of God is sounding,
And the dead in Christ awake!
Saints now living, made immortal,
With the risen from the dead,
All arrayed in robes of honor,
With their Saviour at their head.
Freed from sin and every sorrow,
Ever to be with their Lord,
And for all they’ve suffered for him,
Meet a rich and sure reward.
But where will the thoughtless sinner
Find a secret place to hide,
From the wrath of him who loved us,
And for us was crucified?
Rocks and mountains cannot hide them,
Caves and dens are sought in vain;
Unlamented and unburied,
Will be found the wicked slain.
If there’s yet one ray of mercy,
Lingering for transgressors here,
Let them haste to gain the treasure,
Bought and paid for us so dear.