Clouds Of Judgment Gather, The

The clouds of judgment gather,

The time is growing late;

Be sober and be watchful;

Our Judge is at the gate:

The Judge Who comes in mercy,

The Judge Who comes in might

To put an end to evil

And diadem the right.

Arise, O true disciples,

Let wrong give way to right,

And penitential shadow

To Jesus' blessèd light:

The light that has no evening,

That knows no moon or sun,

The light so new and golden,

The light that is but one.

The home of fadeless splendor,

Of blooms that bear no thorn,

Where they shall dwell as children

Who here as exiles mourn;

The peace of all the faithful,

The calm of all the blest,

Inviolate, unfading,

Divinest, sweetest, best.

Oh, happy, holy portion,

Relief for all distressed,

True vision of true beauty,

Refreshment for the blest!

Strive now to win that glory;

Toil now to gain that light;

Send hope ahead to grasp it,

Till hope be lost in sight.