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.