IN the gladsome light of morning,
'Mid its music and its song;
While your heart is fresh and hopeful
Knowing naught of wreck or wrong.
From the storm-cloud in the distance,
Stealing o'er life's tranquil sea,
Some have fled to Him for refuge,
And He waits to shelter thee!
By some "well" of earthly pleasure,
In the noontide hour of life,
Once He waited with the offer
Of an "everlasting life.”
But you passed Him by unheeding,
Drinking deeper drafts anew;
But He knows you still are thirsting,
So He's waiting still for you!
From the shades of evening falling
O'er a life grown gray with care,
He would lead thee to a region
Ever bright, and ever fair!
All these years He has been calling,
Longing sore to set thee free;
Now 'mid darkness, storm, and trouble
He is waiting still for thee!
Do not keep Him any longer,
For the day will soon be past;
And His voice of gentle pleading
Will be heard no more at last!
Soon the night of wrath and judgment,
From which now He bids thee flee,
Will o'ertake you in its blackness,
And He'll wait no more for thee!
A. S. O.
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