Looking forward to his return

Should He arrive tomorrow's morn
Can you endure this moment's scorn
Of mortal man's betraying gaze
Or lofty thoughts and loveless phrase
 
Parlay not thoughts of weeks or years
You are but dust with tender fears
Which cannot bear eternal weights
Of long-drawn sorrows, tears, and hates
 
Soul, for today let fear dry up
As you behold the closing cup
Which you shall drink in festal bliss
When King returns on morrow's kiss
 
All the toils and struggles now
Will melt at His crown-bearing brow
The wrinkles of His smiling eyes
Frame flames of fire which light the skies
 
Farewell to pains and grievous harm
Deceiver's pausing slithered charm
No more to fool or lead astray
Oh, great Shepherd's healing Day!



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