The Lord will come: the earth shall quake,
The mountains to their centre shake;
And, withering from the vault of night,
The stars shall pale their feeble light.
The Lord shall come! but not the same
As once in lowliness He came,
A silent Lamb before his woes,
A weary man and full of woes.
The Lord shall come! a dreadful form,
With rainbow-wreath and robes of storm,
On cherub wings and wings of wind,
Appointed Judge of all mankind.
Can this be He, who wont to stray,
A pilgrim on the world's high way;
Oppressed by power, and mocked by pride,
The Nazarene - the crucified?
While sinners in despair shall call,
"Rocks hide us; mountains on us fall;"
The saints, ascending from the tomb,
Shall joyfully sing, "The Lord is come!"
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