What has the world to give thee,
That thou holdest its hand so fast?
It gives thee pleasure and laughter,
Can it give thee peace at last?
It calls—and thou followest after,
In the track of its car with speed;
Its pathways are strew'd with earth's flowers:
Dost thou know where those pathways lead?
What has the devil to give thee:
Thou hast wrought for him faithfully;
Through life's morning, and noon, and even,
None has been thy master but he.
Thou hast worked and hast played—art thou weary?
He will give thee thy wages, he saith;
They come at the end of the journey;
And what are the wages?—Death.
What can thy heart do for thee?
Is it strong enough to save?
Is it wise enough to guide thee
To the land beyond the grave?
Thou thinkest it strong—it is feeble:
Firm—it is tempest-tost;
Free—`tis the slave of Satan;
Thou thinkest it safe—it is lost.
What has the Savior done for thee?
His death on the cross was for thee;
His blood is thy seal of salvation
For time and eternity.
Then answer His call, weary spirit.
He bids thee to "Come unto Me";
His joy and His peace are the portion
He offers to sinners—to thee.
"When we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly.”