One life,—only one!
Its span, unknown to man;
It may be short,—or long;
Days,—months,—or years;
But, 'twill soon be gone.
Not ended,—but begun.
Life's issues are—eternal,—
Mark well that word,
That you may never be
A loser, by what's given thee.
One life—only one!
Shall it be spent in vain?
In pleasure, born of which
Is disappointment,—bitter pain!
The world is hard to please;
'Twill soon grow tired of thee,
And call thee old, and say thou’rt pass'd
The prime of life;—and pity thee
Because of beauty now no more;
And thou must stand aside,
And see the end of all thy pride.
One life,—only one!
Shall it be spent in sin,
In base forgetfulness of Him,
Who gave His only Son?
One life, in which to turn
Thine eyes to Hire, and learn
"The way" from earth to heaven:
Thyself, a poor, lost sinner, see,
Then "look" to Him, who died for thee,
And His alone, from henceforth be,
A liver for—eternity.
R. B.