The dark stream of evil is
flowing apace,
And man is still walking
a stranger to grace,
While daring rebellion
is on the increase,
Which mar not my joy,
which disturb not my peace,
For my heart is engaged
with its own happy song;
The Lord who has loved
me will come before long;
It may be tomorrow, or
even to night,
That I shall behold him
in unclouded light!
The house, and the land, and
the wealth in the chest,
Bring plenty of trouble,
but never bring rest;
The Lord is my
portion! and when I have
grief,
His rich consolations
gives instant relief.
I list not to doubts
that my
reason may bring,
I
trust to his mercy,
and cheerſully sing—
It
may be to morrow, or even
to-day,
That Christ will descend
to call
us away.
I know not the
way He will bring it
about,
But I do know He'll come
with the archangel's shout;
I know not the hour,
whether morning or night,
But I'm waiting with
patience, with untold
delight.
Though thickly around me
sad errors may roll,
This one blessed hope is
the stay of my soul—
It may be to -morrow, or
even to-day,
That I shall be called
to His presence away!
The world, in its wisdom,
may scorn and deny
The
worth of the One upon whom I
rely,
But from Him
all blessing and holiness
flows;
And in Him
I have the most blessed
repose.
The night closes
in, and the morn re-appears,
And thus it has been for a
number of years,
But
still on the hill tops of
hope I would stay,
And eagerly look for the
breaking of day!
To-morrow
may come, with its
sorrows and joys,
And the evil which often
my pleasure alloys,
And still find the world
with its poor little aim,
And the scoffer in
nature and practice the
same;
May it never find me
looking earthward for bliss;
My hope is above,
my rejoicing is this—
It
may be to- morrow, or even
this eve,
That I, for my place in
the glory, shall leave.
To-morrow
may come, with its
sickness and death,
And I may be called to
relinquish my breath,
But that makes me happy,
because I am sure
My soul
with the Lord will be
sweetly secure;
But
faith takes the word
as its own proper range,
And looks not for
death, but that
wonderful change,
From weakness and
sickness, to vigor and
might;
From evil and darkness,
to beauty and light.
Adorable Saviour! by faith I
descry
The long-looked for day
of redemption draws nigh,
When the shame and
contempt and the grief shall
give place
To the holy
rejoicings, the triumphs of
grace!
Till we from this
terrible desert are caught,
My heart would rejoice
in this comforting thought
It may be to-morrow, or
even to-night,
The
fulness of glory will burst
on my sight!
Down life's dark vale we
wander
Till Jesus comes;
We watch and wait and
wonder,
Till Jesus comes.
Oh,
let my lamp be burning
When Jesus comes;
For
Him my soul be yearning,
When Jesus comes.
All joy His loved ones
bringing,
When Jesus comes;
All
praise through heaven
ringing
When Jesus comes.
All
beauty, bright and vernal,
When Jesus comes;
All
glory, grand, eternal,
When Jesus comes.
No more heart pangs nor
sadness,
When Jesus comes;
All
peace and joy and gladness,
When Jesus comes.
All
doubts and fears will
vanish,
When Jesus comes;
All
gloom His face will banish,
When Jesus comes.
He'll know the way was
dreary,
When Jesus comes;
He'll
know the feet grew weary,
When Jesus comes.
He'll
know what griefs oppressed
me,
When Jesus comes;
Oh,
how His arms will rest me!
When Jesus comes.