The Spirit came in childhood
And pleaded, “Let me in,”
But, oh! the door was bolted
By heedlessness and sin;
“Oh! I’m too young,” the child said
“My heart is closed today.”
Sadly the Spirit listened,
Then turned and went away.
Again He came and pleaded
In youth’s bright, happy hour;
He called, but found no answer,
For, fettered by sin’s power
The youth lay idly dreaming;
“Go, Spirit; not today,
Wait till I’ve tried life’s pleasures.”
Again He went away.
Once more He came in mercy,
In manhood’s vigorous prime;
He knocked, but found no entrance;
The merchant had no time,
No time for true repentance,
No time to think, or pray;
And so, repulsed and saddened,
Again He turned away.
Yet once again He pleaded—
The man was old and ill;
He hardly heard the whisper,
His heart was sere and chill.
“Go, leave me! when I want Thee,
I’ll send for Thee,” he cried;
Then, turning on his pillow,
Without a hope he died.
ML 03/09/1902