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EDEN LOST AND RESTORED

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · March 3, 1885

FromAdvent Review and Sabbath Herald, Vol. 62, No. 9

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EDEN LOST AND RESTORED.

By L. D. Santee

BY ELD. L. D. SANTEE.
Like a lovely island in a sea of glory Stood the fair earth at first in radiant form; Since then her crests with ages have grown hoary Beneath the footsteps of unceasing storm.
The morning stars sang in the glad creation; No sin, no curse, no wrinkled brow of age; Man, pure and holy, entered on probation, And the future shone a fair, unsullied page.
Green o’er the rivers were the tall trees swaying, And bright o’er all God’s glorious sunshine played; Glad forms of life through Eden fair were straying ’Mong fadeless flowers, fair trees, and sylvan glade.
But the dread usurper gained his dark dominion, And angels veiled their faces, turned away, While the dove of joy and peace with drooping pinion Left the sad world now stricken with decay.
But I must tell you of creation’s crying, Of earnest prayer ascending with the years, Of earth so dreary, for redemption sighing, And longing to be free from sin and tears.
And of the prayers from aching heart of nature, Of many sobbing cries from oceans vast, Petitioning to God, the great Creator, That he rebuke the tide of sin at last.
Of rippling streams that ever onward flowing Whisper their burden to the wrinkled sea; Of lonely autumn winds on dark shores blowing, Sighing for lands where death shall never be.
Wrathful o’er stormy seas are dark clouds sailing, And cursed the earth that once was pure and fair; From every household comes the sound of wailing, And the sad cry of anguish and despair.
But God’s great love, and pity’s wondrous fountain Deviseth means to save the doomed and lost; And Christ, the Son, on Calvary’s rugged mountain Died to regain dominion that was lost.
And soon the King of kings will come in glory, The skies shall tremble ’neath the mighty God; Prophets and seers have told with joy the story, How Christ for aye shall break the oppressor’s rod.
And opened wide shall be the grave’s dark prison, And broken be the iron bars of death, And all the righteous ones to life be risen, Clothed and immortal, with a free, glad breath.
Merciful God, we leave us in thy keeping, Preserve us pure from sin and all its harms; Thus guarded by the eye that’s never sleeping, Grant rest within the everlasting arms.
Oswego, Kan.