THE night of the world grew darker
With ever-increasing gloom,
And the nations rushed more madly
To their awful, endless, doom.
And ever throughout the ages
Arose Earth’s doleful cry,
In an ever-increasing volume,
To the throne of God Most High.
The cry of the fallen monarch,
The shriek of the tortured slave
Arose on the air together,
To Him Who alone could save.
Yea, creation groaned and travailed
Beneath man’s weight of sin,
And sighed for the Sabbath morning
That should bring salvation in.
Yet, up in the courts of glory,
Dwelt peace and love and light,
Where angels of God thrice holy
Paid homage day and night.
But lo! at Earth’s darkest moment
A solemn hush was felt
‘Misdst the mighty throng of angels,
While adoringly they knelt,
As Christ, the Heir of all things,
His glory laid aside;
And left His home in Heaven,
On sinful earth to ‘bide.
Now, Earth, look up with gladness,
Thy Morning Star appears;
He comes to chase thy sorrows,
To banish all they fears.
There, in the lowly manger,
Thy only hope doth lie;
Then give Him a royal welcome,
For He brings redemption nigh!
He had come, the long expected,
But the proud world knew Him not;
And the best it had to give Him
Was a malefactor’s lot.
He came to His ancient people,
Whom his grace had blessed before;
And they gave Him no admission,
But turned Him from their door.
With a reed and robe of purple,
A cross and a crown of thorn,
They sent the holy Saviour
Away from the earth in scorn.
Well might angelic legions
Weep at Earth’s awful plight,
As she plunged from the door of blessing
More deep in eternal night.
And well might they gaze in wonder
At the boundless tide of grace
That flowed from the heart eternal
To a doomed and cursed race.