"Watchman, what of the night 1 The "watchman said, The morning cometh, and also the night"-Isa. 21:11, 12.

What of the night of travail sore
That hath held in dark embrace,
From unbelieving sire to son,
The line of Judah's race ?
Doth the night of pain and exile wane,
The day-dawn wax apace ?

Oh, why have Salem's scattered sons
Been set with sorrow round ?
And why is Zion's holy hill
With mosque of Omar crowned ?
And where the song of praise should rise,
" Lo-Ammi" wails resound ?

Because, O Salem, ye denied
The Holy and the True,
Long, long, o'er David's royal tower
The cruel Crescent flew,
And unbelieving Moslem reigned
O'er unbelieving Jew.

But Israel, for the fathers', sake,
Is precious in His sight,
And harbingers of coming day
Now gild their long, dark night-
For Moslem flag no longer flies
O'er Zion's sacred height.

The Powers of earth their wars may wage
Their rival goals to gain,
But faith discerns God's arm outstretched
To bring His own again:
For He who gave the spoiler power,
Alone can break his chain.

O'er all a warring world portends,
The Spirit-taught can hear
The voice prophetic, fraught with hope,
To outcast Israel's ear,
And on the withered fig-tree see
The budding life appear.
The mercies sure of David stand
For Jacob's chosen race;
And He who scattered in His wrath
Shall gather in His grace,
And plead, as with their sires of old,
With Israel face to face.

Their long, last exile o'er, they'll come
From many an alien strand;
Their fathers' God shall guard and guide
With His o'er-ruling hand,
Till Ephraim, Judah, reconciled,
Possess in peace the land.

But ere the day of Israel come,
Ere reigneth David's Heir,
The day of grace in judgment ends
In night of dark despair:
E'en now the words loom on the wall
That Gentile doom declare.

While arch-deceivers, serpent-tongued,
Beguile on every hand,
The swelling flood of unbelief
Sweeps o'er a darkening land-
On the rock of God's Inerrant Word
How few, alas, now stand!

And He who wept o'er Salem, left
To desolation's reign,
Now grieves o'er Gentile unbelief,
And warns, entreats-in vain!
Ah, soon may Israel's olive root
Bear Jewish branch again.

The fulness of the Gentiles come,
The day of grace will close,
And Judah's Lion shall arise
In wrath to smite His foes:
Man's vaunted " Peace " but ushers in
Jehovah's judgment woes.

The heavens will yield, in glorious power,
Earth's rightful Heir and Lord-
His grace despised, His mercy spurned.
His kingly claims ignored,
He'll come in righteousness to wield
Our God's avenging sword.

For haughty man's apostate pride
No bound nor limit knows,
Till-oh, the blasphemy supreme!-
He e'en as God will pose,
And Gentile Empires' sun will set
In Armageddon's throes.

Then o'er this weary, war-worn world,
With healing in His wing
The Sun of Righteousness shall rise,
And peace and blessing bring;
And all creation hail as Lord
Jehovah's Priestly King.

W. L. G.