The Trumpet - Poem by Edwin Arnold
_Magnify Him, Al-Kaiyum; and so call
The 'Self-subsisting' God who judgeth all_.
When the trumpet shall sound,
On that day,
The wicked, slow-gathering,
'Is it long we have lain in our graves?
For it seems as an hour!'
Then will Israfil call them to judgment:
And none shall have power
To turn aside, this way or that;
And their voices will sink
To silence, except for the sounding
Of a noise, like the noise on the brink
Of the sea when its stones
Are dragged with a clatter and hiss
Down the shore, in the wild breakers' roar!
The sound of their woe shall be this:--
Then they who denied
That He liveth Eternal, 'Self-made,'
Shall call to the mountains to crush them;
Amazed and affrayed.
_Thou Self-subsistent, Living Lord!
Thy grace against that day afford_.
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