“AM I MY BROTHER’S KEEPER?”
By Julia Loomis
Long ages since, a sinful man
Addressed these taunting words
To Him who searches every heart,
And every act records. He thought to hide his cruel deed,
His innocence proclaim,
By proving that his brother had
On him no rightful claim. How many in these later times
Are saying by their ways,
“Am I my brother’s keeper, Lord?
Can I prolong his days?” Awake, my brother! Look abroad!
There is no time to spare.
The poor do die for lack of bread;
The sick, for want of care, Dying without one ray of hope.
O, hasten! quickly haste!
Too late! too late! may haunt thy days,
If thou a moment waste. Think not, my brothers, to escape;
The Lord has surely said,
The blood of him you fail to warn
Will be upon thy head. The times demand our patient toil;
Not one may be excused;
The talents God bestowed on all,
Were given to be used. O, let us not presume to think
That we may idle be,
While there’s a soul on earth to help,
Or be from sin set free!