Mistful Are Our Waiting Eyes

Mistful are our wait­ing eyes

As of them who saw Him rise

From that mount­ain to the skies.

Then the holy an­gels near

Gave them tid­ings of good cheer:

Jesus shall again ap­pear.

And we wait an an­gel’s cry

Piercing earth­ward from the sky:

Now

be­hold your Lord is nigh!

Yet

who shall abide that day

When the Judge with dread ar­ray

Comes for uni­vers­al sway?

Dreadly shall His sum­mons sweep

Heard by those who wake or sleep

On the height or in the deep:

Heard by Life ’mid all its bloom

Heard by Death in ev­ery tomb—

Terrible de­cree of doom.

For the ga­thered souls who stand

Waiting that su­preme com­mand

He shall part on ei­ther hand.

To those souls of quick and dead

Come

shall be the bless­ing said

Go

shall be the curs­ing dread.

Lord

dwell in us now

we pray

That

in the di­vid­ing day

We be not the cast away!

So shall we till Thou ap­pear

Blend

in long­ing eye and ear

Holy joy with ho­ly fear!