1 The day of the Lord is at hand, at hand;
Its storms roll up the sky;
The nations sleep starving on heaps of gold;
All dreamers toss and sigh;
The night is darkest before the morn;
When the pain is greatest the child is born,
For the day of the Lord is at hand, at hand,
The day of the Lord is at hand.
2 Who would sigh for an old lost age of gold,
While the Lord of all ages is here?
True hearts then will leap at the trumpet of God,
And those who can suffer can dare.
Each age of gold was an iron age too,
And the meekest of saints may find stern work to do
For the day of the Lord at hand, at hand,
In the day of the Lord at hand.
|First Line:||Now the day of the Lord is at hand, at hand|
|Title:||Now the Day of the Lord Is at Hand|
|Alterer:||Richard Proulx, b. 1937|
|Author:||Charles Kingsley, 1819-1974|
|Topic:||Advent 1, Year C; Ordinary Time 33, Year B; Ordinary Time 33, Year C(5 more...)|
|Name:||REMEMBER THE POOR|
|Adapter:||Richard Proulx, b. 1937|
|Harmonizer:||Richard Proulx, b. 1937|
|Copyright:||Alt. and harm. © 1986, GIA Publications, Inc.|