"The, dark stream of evil is flowing apace:"
Awake, and be doing, ye children of grace.
Let us seek with compassion the souls that are lost,
Well knowing the price their redemption has cost.
While singing with rapture the Savior's great love,
And waiting for Him to translate us above,
"It may be tomorrow, or even to-night,"
Let loins be well girded, and lamps burning bright.
We're journeying on to the realms of the blest,
We're nearer each day to our heavenly rest;
But when we reach home, and its regions of joy,
No labors of mercy our hands can employ
No mourning ones there shall we meet to console,
No wand'rers to rescue, or sick ones make whole,
No weak ones to cherish, no lost ones to find-
These labors of love we shall all leave behind.
The house, and the land, and the wealth in the chest,
Give plenty occasions for ministries blest;
Let's use them to lessen the lone widow's grief,
To fatherless children give welcome relief;
The doubting and fearful, to them let us bring
Those tidings of mercy that cause us to sing,
Then let us "to-morrow, and even to-day,"
Be true to our mission while down here we stay.
Yes, let us with ardor the present redeem—
Our joy and our glory to imitate Him,
The Shepherd, who travail'd his lost sheep to save,
And His blood for their ransom on Calvary gave.
Self was never His object; Himself He denied;
For others, each moment, He liv'd and He died!
We are left here to learn, and to copy His grace,
While He in the heavens secures us our place.
Then, Lord, while my spirit so yearns to get home,
I'd learn to be patient till Thou for us come;
E'en now is my spirit so happy in Thee,
I can bear here to tarry till Thou call for me.
In the patience of hope I will spend Thy delay,
'T would be selfish to wish e'en to hasten the day,
Assur'd Thy long-suffering alone stays the hour
When the " Day of the Lord" shall display its
dread power.
My Master! I pray Thee to purge from my breast
All hard, selfish pining for ease and for rest.
Oh, make me delight in Thy service of love,
My heart all responsive to Thy heart above!
The time of my sojourn, how soon it may end!
Instruct me more wisely its "twelve hours" to spend;
That be it "to-morrow, or be it to-night,"
To win Thy approval be still my delight.