THE Lord will come! the earth shall quake,
The hills their fixed seat forsake;
And, withering, from the vault of night
The stars withdraw their feeble light.

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.
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!

Can this be He who wont to stray
A pilgrim on the world's highway;
By power oppressed, and mocked by pride?
Oh God! is this the Crucified?

Go, tyrants! to the rocks complain!
Go, seek the mountains' cleft in vain!
But faith, victorious o'er the tomb,

Shall sing for joy-the Lord is come!

Reginald Heber.

E'EN now, perchance, wide-waving o'er the land,
That mighty angel lifts his golden wand,
Courts the bright vision of descending power,

Tells every gate, and measures every tower;

And chides the tardy seals that yet detain
Thy Lion, Judah, from his destined reign.

And who is He? the vast, the awful form
Girt with the whirlwind, sandaled with the storm ?
A western cloud around His limbs is spread,
His crown a rainbow, and a sun His head.
To highest Heaven He lifts His kingly hand,
And treads at once the ccean and the land;
And, hark! His voice amid the thunder's roar,
His dreadful voice, that time shall be no more!

Lo! cherub hands the golden courts prepare,
Lo! thrones arise, and every saint is there;
Earth's utmost bounds confess their awful sway,
The mountains worship, and the isles obey;

Nor sun nor moon they need,—nor day, nor night;
God is their temple, and the Lamb their light:
And shall not Israel's sons exulting come,

Hail the glad beam, and claim their ancient home?
On David's throne shall David's offspring reign,
And the dry bones be warm with life again.
Hark! white-robed crowds their deep hosannas raise,
And the hoarse flood repeats the sound of praise;
Ten thousand harps attune the mystic song,
Ten thousand thousand saints the strain prolong;
"Worthy the Lamb! omnipotent to save,
Who died, who lives, triumphant o'er the grave!"

Reginald Heler.

London:- Printed by G. BARCLAY, Castle St. Leicester Sq.