LONGING FOR The Second Coming OF CHRIST. Isaac Watts Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T82397 K067329.000 Watts, Isaac, 1674-1748. Horæ lyricæ: Poems, chiefly of the lyric kind. In two books. ... By I. Watts. London Printed by S. and D. Bridge, for John Lawrence at the Sign of the Angel in the Poultrey. MDCCVI. 1706 pp. 34-37. [20],267,[1]p.; 8⁰.

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LONGING FOR The Second Coming OF CHRIST . I. WHEN shall thy Shining Face be seen ? When shall our Eyes behold our God ? What lengths of Distance lie between , And Hills of Guilt , a Heavy Load ! II . Our Months are Ages of Delay , And slowly every Minute wears ; Fly winged Time , and roll away These tedious Rounds of Sluggish Years . III . Ye Heavenly Gates , loose all your Chains , Let the Eternal Pillars bow , Dear Saviour , Cleave the Starry Plains , And make the Chrystal Mountains flow . IV . Hark how thy Saints unite their Cries , And pray and wait the General Doom , Come , thou the Soul of all our Joys , Thou the Desire of Nations , come . V. Put thy bright Robes of Triumph on , And bless our Eyes , and bless our Ears , Thou absent Love , thou Dear Unknown , Thou Fairest of ten thousand Fairs . VI . Our Heart-strings groan with deep Complaint , Our Flesh lies panting , Lord , for thee , And every Limb and every Joynt Stretches for Immortality . VII . Our Spirits shake their Eager Wings , And burn to meet thy rolling Throne , We rise away from Mortal things To attend thy Shining Chariot down ! VIII . Now let our Chearful Eyes survey The blazing Earth and melting Hills , And smile to see the Lightnings play , And flash along before thy Wheels . IX . O for a shout of Violent Joys To Joyn the Trumpets thundring sound ! The Angel Herald shakes the Skies , Awakes the Graves , and tears the Ground . X. Ye Slumbring Saints , a Heavenly Host Stands waiting at your gaping Tombs , Let every Sacred Sleeping Dust Leap into Life , for Jesus comes . XI . Jesus the God of Might and Love New moulds our Limbs of Cumbrous Clay , Quick as Seraphick Flames we move , Active and Young and Fair as they . XII . Our airy Feet with unknown flight Swift as the motions of Desire Run up the Hills of Heavenly Light , And leave the Weltring World in Fire .