The Spirit came in childhood,
And pleaded, "Let Christ in!"
But O! the door was bolted
By heedlessness and sin.
"O! I'm too young," the child said,
"My heart is closed today!"
Sadly the Spirit listened,
Then turned and went away.
Again He came and pleaded
In youth's bright happy hour—
He called, but found no answer,
For, fettered by sin's power,
The youth lay idly dreaming:
"Go, Spirit; not today;
Wait till I've tried life's pleasures"—
Again He went away.
Once more He came in mercy,
In manhood's vigorous prime:
He knocked, but found no entrance;
"The merchant had no time;"
"No time for true repentance;”
"No time to think or pray"—
And so, repulsed and saddened,
Again He turned away,
Yet once again He pleaded—
The man was old and ill—
He hardly heard the whisper,
His heart was sear and chill:
"Go, leave me! when I want Thee
I'll send for Thee," he cried;
Then, turning on his pillow,
Without a hope he died!