"BEHOLD, NOW IS THE ACCEPTED TIME."
By Edna A. Crabbe
As down the many years apace,
We backward turn our thoughts and trace
Events gone by—perhaps a deed—
Or plans we planned and failed to heed;
See how unworthy we have been
Of Jesus, who for us was slain;
Who by the cross and pain did buy
A home for all, beyond the sky.
The resurrection morn shall come,
And loved ones all He'll gather home—
Forever more to live. Our God to us His Son did give,
That all who died in Him might live;
Live in the mansions He prepares,
Away from sorrow, sin and cares.
O, turn to God without delay!
For Christ our Lord has cleared the way:
Trust not unto a last prayer given,
To save our souls and gain us heaven.
For close, so close, we walk with death
How know we when shall cease our breath
And we die unforgiven? Think of the many ones who give
Their youth—the best that in them is—
To Satan's snares, and day by day
Are led by reckless pleasure's sway;
Who think that when they come to die
God then will hear unburden'd cry.
O, sinners, who are tempting fate,
Turn to Jehovah ere too late!
Then cease, oh cease, to wait! God's love for us is never late;
'Tis ours, whose laggard footsteps wait.
God's angel now a message sings
O'er all the Nations wide it rings;
A warning that will be the last;
Probation's closing, closing fast.
Then let us be among the throng
Who for the end doth work and long;
Who deem God's love of greater worth
Than all the riches of the earth,
Or worldly pleasures wrong. When worldly lusts and passions cleave,
O, Soul! the Spirit thou dost grieve—
Then, O, so gladly take the cross;
Count gain, for carnal pleasure's loss;
For Christ hath better things for all
Who heed His tender loving call,
O, sinner, sinner, do not wait.
A death-bed prayer, a death-bed fate!
Think not there's time before ye die;
End not this life with anguished cry—
Too late! Too late! Too late!