We have reached an awful era in the onward flight of years,
While the nations are in slumber, crying “peace” ’mid drowning fears;
Lo, the shadows of creation lengthen to the eventide,
The Lord is surely coming to receive His holy bride.
We shall see the Savior coming,
Coming in the glory of His Father’s throne;
In that sweet and golden morning,
He will come to crown His own
Every human structure ’round us crumbles from the mighty shock,
While we stand upon the summit of the everlasting Rock;
Mighty heralds, swiftly flying, sound the news from shore to shore,
The Bridegroom is returning, and already at the door.
Oh, our glorious King is coming from His country far away,
For He has received a kingdom that shall stand eternally;
And the saints, in all the greatness and the glory of His reign,
Shall rise with songs of triumph and extol His holy name.