I Know Not When The Lord Will Come

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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