Not Yet

"Go thy way, and when I have a more convenient season I will call for thee."

* * * * *

"The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved."

Not yet, not yet, O Saviour, Although thou callest me In life's unclouded morning Why should I follow thee? The world and all its pleasures Outspread before me lie, When I have grasped its treasures I'll hear thee, by and by.

Not yet, not yet, O Saviour!-- True, thou hast called me long, Yet, almost more than ever, I love the world's glad song! Say not the years are hasting With rapid footsteps by,-- Say not life's sands are wasting, But call me by and by!

Not yet, not yet, O Saviour! I have no time to stay; The goal tow'rd which I hasten Is now not far away. Another day--and haply The triumph I shall see, And grasp my crown of vic'try,-- Then, I will call for thee!

* * *

No more, no more, O sinner, The Saviour's call is o'er! The door is shut forever, To be unclosed no more!-- So late the hour and lonely, So dark the night and drear, And He who called thee only To bless thee, will not hear!

Past is the harvest-gladness, The summer-bloom is o'er, Thy sun has set in sadness, To rise-oh, nevermore! So late the hour and lonely, So dark the night and drear, And He who called thee only To bless thee, will not hear!