Memoirs of William Miller - Sylvester Bliss

See, see! -- the angel with his sharp sickle is about
to take the field! See yonder trembling victim fall
before his pestilential breath! High and low, rich
and poor, trembling and falling before the
appalling grave, the dreadful cholera. Hark! -- hear
those dreadful bellowings of the angry nations! It is
the presage of horrid and terrific war. Look! -- look
again! See crowns, and kings, and kingdoms
tumbling to the dust! See lords and nobles, captains
and mighty men, all arming for the bloody, demon
fight! See the carnivorous fowls fly screaming
through the air! See, -- see these signs! Behold, the
heavens grow black with clouds; the sun has veiled
himself; the moon, pale and forsaken, hangs in
middle air; the hail descends; the seven thunders
utter loud their voices; the lightnings send their
vivid gleams of sulphurous flame abroad; and the
great city of the nations falls to rise no more
forever and forever! At this dread moment, look!
look! -- O, look and see! What means that ray of
light? The clouds have burst asunder; the heavens
appear; the great white throne is in sight!
Amazement fills the universe with awe! He comes!
-- he comes! Behold, the Saviour comes! Lift up
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