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1 The Lord will come: the earth shall quake,
The hills their fixèd seat forsake;
And, withering from the vault of night,
The stars withdraw their feeble light.
2 The Lord will come: but not the same
As once in lowly form He came,
A silent Lamb to slaughter led,
The bruised, the suffering, and the dead.
3 The Lord will come: a dreadful form,
With wreath of flame, and robe of storm,
On cherub wings, and wings of wind,
Anointed Judge of human-kind.
4 Can this be He who wont to stray
A pilgrim on the world's highway;
By power oppress'd, and mock'd by pride?
O God! is this the Crucified?
5 Go, tyrants, to the rocks complain;
Go, seek the mountain's cleft in vain;
But faith, victorious o'er the tomb,
Shall sing for joy, The Lord is come.
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | The Lord will come, the earth shall quake |
| Meter: | 8s 7s. 4. |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1871 |
| Notes: | Public Domain. |