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Awake—again the Gospel-trump is blown—
From year to year it swells with louder tone,
Strange words fulfilled, and mighty works achieved,
And truth in all the world both hated and believed.
Awake! why linger in the gorgeous town,
Sworn liege-men of the Cross and thorny crown?
Nor wonder, should ye find your King in tears,
E’en with the loud Hosanna ringing in His ears.
Alas! no need to rouse them: long ago
They are gone forth to swell Messiah’s show:
All but your hearts are there—O doomed to prove
The arrows winged in Heaven for Faith that will not love!
Meanwhile He passes through the adoring crowd,
Calm as the march of some majestic cloud,
E’en so, heart-searching Lord, as years roll on,
Thou keepest silent watch from Thy triumphal throne:
E’en so, the world is thronging round to gaze
On the dread vision of the latter days,
“Hosanna” now, to-morrow “Crucify,”
The changeful burden still of their rude lawless cry.
Yet in that throng of selfish hearts untrue
Thy sad eye rests upon Thy faithful few,
And Lazarus wakened from his four days’ sleep,
Enduring life again, that Passover to keep.
And fast beside the olive-bordered way
Stands the blessed home where Jesus deigned to stay,
Where Martha loved to wait with reverence meet,
And wiser Mary lingered at Thy sacred feet.
Still through decaying ages as they glide,
Thou lovest Thy chosen remnant to divide;
Pause where we may upon the desert road,
Some shelter is in sight, some sacred safe abode.
When withering blasts of error swept the sky,
And Love’s last flower seemed fain to droop and die,
Then to his early home did Love repair,
And cheered his sickening heart with his own native air.
Years roll away: again the tide of crime
Has swept Thy footsteps from the favoured clime
Like some bright angel o’er the darkling scene,
Through court and camp he holds his heavenward course serene.
A fouler vision yet; an age of light,
Light without love, glares on the aching sight:
When wearied with the tale thy times disclose,
The eye first finds thee out in thy secure repose?
Thus bad and good their several warnings give
Of His approach, whom none may see and live:
Keeping the heart awake till dawn of morn,
While to her funeral pile this aged world is borne.
But what are Heaven’s alarms to hearts that cower
In wilful slumber, deepening every hour,
Lord, ere our trembling lamps sink down and die,
Touch us with chastening hand, and make us feel Thee nigh.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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10 10 8 8 8 10 12
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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Rm 8:11;
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1887 | # 6 |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
