This little poem taken from the Voice of Healing Magazine, December 1950.
When Will He Come?
Perhaps He will come at the dawning
Of a beautiful summer day,
When the birds and flowers are awakening
To welcome the sun’s first ray,
And the eastern sky will brighten
With the light of the dawn’s caress
And herald the swift arising
0f the Sun of Righteousness?
Perhaps He will come at the evening.
When, weary of toil and care,
We rest and watch as the darkness
Creeps o’er the landscape fair,
And, behind, the stars in their beauty
Shine forth from their depths afar,
But their radiance dims in the glory
0f the “Bright and Morning Star”.
Perhaps He will come at midnight,
When earth and its dwellers sleep.
When over the mountains and valleys
Broods a silence vast and deep,
And the trump of the great archangel
Shall awaken the slumberers there,
And His saints will be caught up together
To meet the Lord in the air.
But whether at dawn or evening.
At midnight or sultry noon,
And whether awake or sleeping,
And the time be distant or soon.
May I live so that I shall be ready
With joy my Saviour to meet,
And feel no alarm at His coming,
But hasten His heralds to greet.