ASUNDER shall the clouds be rolled, Like to God's golden palace gate. Then shall our eyes the Judge behold In glorious and solemn state. The rainbow's splendour for His crown: His voice like torrents in the glen: His glance like lightning flashing down From dark clouds to affrighted men. The sun, that bright torch of the sky, Shall pale before such radiant light; The blinding flashes from His eye Shall hide its brilliance from our sight. Thus mournfully its light shall fade: And red with blood shall be the moon. The stars in heaven shall be swayed, And totter at the knell of doom. Like fruit-buds on a wind-swept plain The stars shall scatter through the skies, And drop down to the earth like rain, With vanished light like dead men's eyes. |