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  Not Yet  

 

"Go thy way, and when I have a more convenient season I will call for thee." "The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved."

Not yet, not yet, O Saviour,
    Although thou callest me
In life's unclouded morning
    Why should I follow thee?
The world and all its pleasures
    Outspread before me lie,
When I have grasped its treasures
    I'll hear thee, by and by.

Not yet, not yet, O Saviour!--
    True, thou hast called me long,
Yet, almost more than ever,
    I love the world's glad song!
Say not the years are hasting
    With rapid footsteps by,--
Say not life's sands are wasting,
    But call me by and by!

Not yet, not yet, O Saviour!
    I have no time to stay;
The goal tow'rd which I hasten
    Is now not far away.
Another day--and haply
    The triumph I shall see,
And grasp my crown of vic'try,--
    Then, I will call for thee!

No more, no more, O sinner,
    The Saviour's call is o'er!
The door is shut forever,
    To be unclosed no more!--
So late the hour and lonely,
    So dark the night and drear,
And He who called thee only
    To bless thee, will not hear!

Past is the harvest-gladness,
    The summer-bloom is o'er,
Thy sun has set in sadness,
    To rise-oh, nevermore!
So late the hour and lonely,
    So dark the night and drear,
And He who called thee only
    To bless thee, will not hear!

       - Mrs. J. C. Yule


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