Behold, the Master Passeth By

Behold

the Mas­ter pass­eth by!

O seest thou not His plead­ing eye?

With low sad voice He call­eth thee

Leave this vain world

and fol­low Me.

O soul

bowed down with har­row­ing care

Hast thou no thought for Heav’n to spare?

From earth­ly toils lift up thine eye;

Behold

the Mas­ter pass­eth by!

One heard Him call­ing long ago

And straight­way left all things be­low

Counting his earth­ly gain as loss

For Je­sus and His bless­èd cross.

That Fol­low Me his faith­ful ear

Seemed ev­ery day afresh to hear;

Its ech­oes stirred his spir­it still

And fired his hope

and nerved his will.

God gent­ly calls us ev­ery day:

Why should we then our bliss de­lay?

Thou

Lord

e’en now art call­ing me;

I will leave all

and fol­low Thee.