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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420876" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>What Of The Day</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A SOUND of tumult troubles all the air,<br>Like the low thunders of a sultry sky<br>Far-rolling ere the downright lightnings glare;<br>The hills blaze red with warnings; foes draw nigh,<br>Treading the dark with challenge and reply.<br>Behold the burden of the prophet's vision;<br>The gathering hosts, — the Valley of Decision,<br>Dusk with the wings of eagles wheeling o'er.<br>Day of the Lord, of darkness and not light!<br>It breaks in thunder and the whirlwind's roar!<br>Even so, Father! Let Thy will be done;<br>Turn and o'erturn, end what Thou hast begun<br>In judgment or in mercy: as for me,<br>If but the least and frailest, let me be<br>Evermore numbered with the truly free<br>Who find Thy service perfect liberty!<br>I fain would thank Thee that my mortal life<br>Has reached the hour (albeit through care and pain)<br>When Good and Evil, as for final strife,<br>Close dim and vast on Armageddon's plain;<br>And Michael and his angels once again<br>Drive howling back the Spirits of the Night.<br>Oh for the faith to read the signs aright<br>And, from the angle of Thy perfect sight,<br>See Truth's white banner floating on before;<br>And the Good Cause, despite of venal friends,<br>And base expedients, move to noble ends;<br>See Peace with Freedom make to Time amends,<br>And, through its cloud of dust, the threshing-floor,<br>Flailed by the thunder, heaped with chaffless grain!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420876" data-title="What Of The Day de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="A SOUND of tumult troubles all the air,
Like the low thunders of a sultry sky
Far-rolling ere the downright lightnings glare;
The hills blaze red with warnings; foes draw nigh,
Treading the dark with challenge and reply.
Behold the burden of the p..."></div>
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