On us the age's end is come,
Our pathway leads through deep'ning gloom;
The shadows that about us lie
Are shades of doom.
But we for a salvation wait,
Long-promised, and that draweth near;
The word is "In the age's end
It shall appear."
O promise fraught with deepest joy
Let us with loins well girded stand,
Watch through the last short fleeting hour,
For He's at hand.
Bid disappointment's murmur cease,
And hush the clamor of distress;
Christ corneal with the breaking dawn
And brings redress.
Robes of surpassing brightness,-crowns
That cannot wither-then shall be
The tokens of a love past language deep,
To thee and me.