The feast has been prepared for all;
The Master of the house has sent
His servants out to call them in.
But they begin with one consent
To state why each man would decline:
“I beg of thee have me excused;
“I’ve bought a farom,” “I’ve bought a team,”
“I’ve got a wife, I cannot come.”
How trifling these excuses seem—
Like money put in bags with holes;
They make excuses just as lame
For losing their immortal souls!
They fain would think they’re not to blame,
They really think that they might try
Were there not molehills in the way
That to their eyes seem mountains high.
“Besides, I want to have some fun;
My friends the gospel have refused,
And so I guess that for a time
At least, I’d rather be excused,”
“Money is what I’m after now,
To spend old age in ease, my goal.”
But what shall profit man, if he
To gain the world, shall lose his soul?
Poor soul! Whate’er be your excuse,
Look forward to that final Day,
When you must meet the Lord as Judge,
How will you like to hear Him say:
“I know you not! I asked you once
For your acquaintance, but you know
You said you’d rather be excused,
So I excused you long ago.
“I came to earth and suffered death
That your salvation might he wrought;
But no regard to that you paid,
So now depart—I know you not.
You are excused from heaven’s bliss,
Excused to hell’s eternal woe!
You know it was your own request,
And I excused you—you may go.”
The Master of the house had guests,
A feast prepared for all who came;
He gladly sent His servants out
And quickly bade the blind, the lame;
He said of those invited first
But who so foolishly refused,
“Not one of them shall enter here:
They chose to be, and are excused.”
Although he’d rather have them saved,
His Son has fully paid the cost,
And tells us it is not His will
That anybody should be lost;
Yet if they will remain without
Amid the darkness, steeped in sin,
The poor will gladly come and share
The happiness that reigns within.
ML-09/11/1960