The Coming Of His Feet

In the crimson of the morning,

in the whiteness of noon,

In the amber glory
 of the day's retreat,

In the midnight,
 robed in darkness,

or the gleaming
 of the moon,

I listen to the coming of His feet.
  

I heard his weary footsteps

on the sands of Galilee,

On the Temple's 
marble pavement,

on the street,

Worn with
 the weight of sorrow,

faltering up the slopes

of Calvary...

 

 The sorrow of the coming of His feet.

Down the minster
 aisles of splendor,

from betwixt
 the cherubim,

Through the 
wandering throng,

with motions strong
 and fleet,

Sounds His victor
 tread approaching,

with a music far and dim-

The music of the coming of His feet.

Sandaled not 
with sheen of silver,

girded not with woven gold,

Weighted not
 with shimmering green

and odors sweet,

But white-winged
 and shod with glory,

in the Tabor light of old-

The glory of the coming of His feet.

He is coming, O my spirit,

with His everlasting peace,

With His blessedness immortal

and complete;

He is coming, O my spirit,

and His coming brings release-

I listen for the coming of His feet.

-Lyman W. Allen

"...and they will see

the Son of Man coming

on the clouds of heaven

with power and great glory."

Matthew 24:30

Come Soon Lord Yeshua!