Long they've toiled within the harvest,
Sown the precious seed with tears;
Soon they'll drop their heavy burdens
In the glad millennial years;
They will share the bliss of heaven,
Nevermore to sigh or moan;
Starry crowns will then be given,
When the King shall claim His own.
We shall greet the loved and loving,
Who have left us lonely here;
Every heartache will be banished
When the Saviour shall appear;
Never grieved with sin or sorrow,
Never weary or alone;
O, we long for that glad morrow
When the King shall claim His own!
--_L.D. Santee._
[Illustration: SATAN OFFERS GOLD, AND THE WORLD STAMPEDES TO ITS
DESTRUCTION
"Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl for your miseries that shall come
upon you." James 5:1.]
FOOTNOTES:
[D] The display was most brilliant, apparently, in Western Asia. The
veteran missionary, Dr. H.H. Jessup, of the Presbyterian Missionary
College, of Beirut, describes the scene in his "Fifty-Three Years in
Syria:" "On the morning of the fourteenth [November], at three o'clock,
I was roused from a deep sleep by the voice of one of the young men
calling, 'The stars are all coming down.
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