1 In the crimson blush of morning, in the glitter of the noon,
In the midnight's gloomy darkness, or the gleaming of the moon,
In the stillness of the twilight, as it shimmers in the sky,
We are watching, we are waiting for the end that draweth nigh.
2 We shall see him in his splendor and amid a countless throng,
On the clouds to earth descending with a movement swift and strong;
And the angels round about him, in their dazzling white array,
While before him sounds the summons for the final judgment day.
3 And the trumpet's pealing clangor will appalling terrors spread;
It will break the sleep of ages, and will rouse the sheeted dead;
Waxing loud and ever louder, it will pierce to ev'ry tomb,
It will call the saints to glory, and the sinners to their doom.
4 He will welcome all his people, he will diadem his own;
He will show to them his glory, and will share with them his throne;
And forever in his presence they shall see him face to face,
While they chant his matchless wisdom, and extol his wondrous grace.
5 He is coming, surely coming, for his promise cannot fail;
And the scoffers shall behold him, and before him they shall quail!
He is coming, quickly coming! But his coming we shall greet,
We have waited for his advent, and have listened for his feet.