I know a never failing Bank, well-filled with
golden store;
No other bank contains so much that can enrich the
poor.
Should all the banks of Europe break, the Bank of
England fail,
Fear not that Heaven's glorious Bank its discounts
will curtail.
Though a thousand notes He scattered round, all
signed, and sealed and free,
Yet many a doubting soul will say, Ah! they are not for
me.
Proud unbelief cannot admit such tidings to be true,
And yet I tell each bankrupt soul, These notes belong
to you!
I, too, right at the door have been with painful
doubts molested,
Knowing, if Moses keeps the bank, my notes had been
protested.
Some fear they write so bad a hand their notes will be
rejected,
But always humble souls obtain much more than they
expected.
Whenever all my money's spent, and I'm in utter
need,
Straight to my Bank I always go, for generous aid to
plead.
I've been a thousand times before, and never was
rejected;
No notes can ever be refused, that are by Grace
accepted.
Should all the bankers close their doors, my Bank
stands open wide
To all the chosen of the Lord, for whom the Savior
died.
Sometimes my Banker, smiling says, "Why don't you
oftener come?”
And when I draw a little bill, "Why not a larger sum?”
Rowland Hill