Classic Poem

I Tis COMING , iTis coming!
As comes the blessed rain,
When the burning heat and dryness
Have scorched the waving grain.
We hail the early promise, —
'Tis not in vain to wait;
If the help serves God's great purpose,
It never comes too late.

I Tis COMING , iTis coming,
As comes the blessed dew
On the weary, fainting flowers
When the noon-tide heaTis through;
It comes in silent sweetness,
To comfort and to bless, —
We never hear its coming,
But it blesses none the less.

I Tis COMING , iTis coming!
As the giant, rested, wakes,
As o'er the distant hill-tops
The morning redness breaks
While the soldier on his picket,
His solemn vigil keeps,
The light already glimmers
On the highest rugged steeps.

I Tis COMING , yes, 'Tis coming!
But, O prophet, poet, when?
We have lavished forth like water,
Our treasure and our men.
We watch the cloudy pillar
That guides our devious way,
And, blinded in the darkness,
God bids our faith delay.

I Tis COMING , iTis coming!
Love can calm the maddened brain,
And the palm-tree, and the pine-tree,
Interlace their boughs again;
The corn and cotton ripen
For the loyal and the brave,
And free men till the acres
Of a land without a slave.

I Tis COMING , iTis coming,
Peace o'er all the land shall rest,
With a glory and a beauty
Like evening in the west;
The noon-tide brightness lingers,
But God can give it glow;
The forest sleeps in acorns,
But God can make it grow.