AT EASE IN ZION by R. P. Stuart

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Oct 5, 1882

AT EASE IN ZION.

By R. P. Stuart

BY R. P. STUART.

Poor, careless souls, there soon will be No hope, no help, no pardon free. The harvest days will soon be past, And summer suns with clouds o'ercast. Oh, will you idly float along, Allured by pleasure's syren song, Until the sad lament will be, I am not saved—Where shall I flee?

Awake, arouse; there is yet room To find in Jesus rest and home; There yet is time to wash your stains, To heal your wounds and ease your pains. The fountain opened up for sin Invites you still to plunge within, And cleanse your garments white as snow While wide the healing waters flow.

Israel's hope and Zion's star Still holds the golden gate ajar; For you, dear souls, he's waiting yet— With pitying tears his cheeks are wet; Though meeting oft but cold disdain, His matchless love pleads yet again; His bleeding hands hold wide the gate— A King, yet condescends to wait.

Before the throne he pleads his blood. Behold, he cries, the crimson flood! Behold my hands, my feet, my brow, And let these wounds plead for them now! Spare, yet a little longer spare; They yet may heed my dying prayer; They yet may with my people rise And shake this slumber from their eyes.

I've sought them in the wilderness, And in the mountain fastnesses; I've sought them many a long night through, Till cold my locks hung wet with dew; In woe and shame and agony I bore their sins on Calvary. My Father, stay the avenging rod, Spare yet the purchase of my blood.

Poor, careless one, oh, can it be His great love pleads in vain for thee? His priestly work will soon be done; The fiat passed, Let them alone; I called them, but they would not hear; The world held charms for them too dear. Sweet angels wipe your pitying eyes, For vengeance now is mine, he cries.

With drooping mein and saddened eye Sweet mercy lays her garments by, And as she leaves the close shut gate Will you be left to cry, Too late, Or will you now, while bright her beams Shine over all with lingering gleams, Arouse and toil and struggle on Until the Master says, Well done.

O work and wait! O watch and pray! Improve the fleeting hours of day; Renew and keep your broken vows. And victor crowns may deck your brows. Then, when the heavenly feast is spread, And golden streets the ransomed tread, And joyful tongues hosannas raise, You may help swell the songs of praise.