There is a time, we know not when,
A point, we know not where,
That marks the destiny of man
To glory or despair.
There is a line, by us unseen,
That crosses every path,
The hidden boundary between
God’s patience, and His wrath.
O, where is that mysterious bourn
By which our paths are crossed,
Beyond which God Himself hath sworn
That he who goes is lost?
How long may I go on in sin?
How long will God forbear?
Where does hope end, and where begin
The confines of despair?
An answer from the skies is sent,
“Yes, who from God depart,
While it is called today; repent,
And harden not your heart.”