(Mark 5:18-199)
Not Now, my child—a little more rough tossing,
A little longer on the billows' foam,
A few more journeyings in the desert-darkness,
And then the sunshine of thy Father's home.
Not now,—for I have wand'rers in the distance,
And thou must call them in with patient love;
Not now,—for I have sheep upon the mountains,
And thou must follow them where'er they rove.
Not now,—for I have lov'd ones sad and weary:
Wilt thou not cheer them with a kindly smile?
Sick ones, who need thee in their lonely sorrow:
Wilt thou not tend them yet a little while?
Not now,—for wounded hearts are sorely bleeding,
And thou must teach those widow'd hearts to sing;
Not now,—for orphans' tears are thickly falling;
They must be gathered 'neath some sheltering wing.
Not now,—for many a hungry one is pining;
Thy willing hand must be outstretched and free;
Thy Father hears the mighty cry of anguish,
And gives His answering messages to thee.
Not now,—for dungeon walls look stern and gloomy,
And pris'ners' sighs sound strangely on the breeze-
MAN'S pris'ners, but thy Savior's noble free-men:
Hast thou no ministry of love for these?
Not now,—for hell's eternal gulf is yawning,
And souls are perishing in hopeless sin,
Jerusalem's bright gates are standing open -
Go to the banished ones, and fetch them in!
Go with the Name of Jesus to the dying,
And speak that Name in all its living power,
Why should thy fainting heart grow chill and weary?
Canst thou not WATCH WITH ME one little hour?
One little hour! and THEN the glorious crowning,
The golden harp-strings and the victor's palm, -
One little hour!—and THEN the Hallelujah!
Eternity's long, deep, thanksgiving Psalm.