The Cloisters: The Coming of Christ

Unto the East we turn, with watchful eyes,
Where opens the white haze of silvery lawn,
And the still trees stand in the streak of dawn,
Until the Sun of Righteousness shall rise,
And far behind shall open all the skies,
And golden clouds of Angels be withdrawn
Around His presence. Then there shall be gone,
Fleeing before His face in dread surprise,
The Heaven and Earth and the affrighted Sea,
And the tribunal shall be set on high,
And we the fiery trial must abide.
Like nightly travellers to the kindling sky,
Awake or sleeping to yon eastern side
We turn, and know not when the time shall be.