He Is Near

I know not when the Lord will come

Or at what hour He may ap­pear

Whether at mid­night or at morn

Or at what sea­son of the year.

I on­ly know that He is near

And that His voice I soon shall hear;

I on­ly know that He is near

And that His voice I soon shall hear;

I know not what of time re­mains

To run its course

in this low sphere

Or what awaits of calm or storm

Of joy or grief

or hope or fear.

I know not what is yet to run

Of spring or sum­mer

green or sear

Of death or life

of pain or peace

Of shade or shine

of song or tear.

The cen­tu­ries have come and gone

Dark cen­tu­ries of ab­sence drear;

I dare not chide the long de­lay

Nor ask when I His voice shall hear.

I do not think it can be long

Till in His glo­ry He ap­pear;

And yet I dare not name the day

Nor fix the so­lemn ad­vent year.