“For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand.”
“I am ready to be offered;
Ready, for the strife is done,
For the cause on earth is finished,
And the crown is nearly won;
Oft in weariness and weakness,
Oft in peril of the sword,
Still I strove in faith and meekness
I, the prisoner of the Lord.
Come, for autumn winds are wailing,
And the spirit longs for Thee;
Age is lonely, friends are failing,
Demas hath forsaken me.”
Thus the words of Paul the aged
Echo down the aisles of time,
Telling of a trust unshaken,
And a life that was sublime;
Only one soft note of grieving
Through the triumph makes its way—
In the world that he was leaving
One faint heart had gone astray;
Waiting for a glorious morrow,
Soon his risen Lord to see,
Still he sighs, in human sorrow,
“Demas hath forsaken me.”
There are thankless souls, and faithless,
Father, in this world of Thine,
From the Bread of Heaven turning,
To the husks that feed the swine;
And Thy servants, toiling, praying
For the kingdom of Thy grace,
Weep to see these children straying
Far away from Thy dear face;
Bring them back to paths of gladness,
Let Thy Spirit strive for Thee,
Lest they hear Thee say in sadness,
“Lo, ye have forsaken Me!”