While Life Prolongs Its Precious Light

While life pro­longs its pre­cious light

Mercy is found

and peace is giv’n;

But soon

ah soon

ap­proach­ing night

Shall blot out ev­ery hope of Heav­en.

While God in­vites

how blest the day!

How sweet the Gos­pel’s charm­ing sound!

Come sin­ners

haste

O haste away

While yet a par­don­ing God is found.

Soon

borne on time’s most ra­pid wing

Shall death com­mand you to the grave

Before His bar your spir­its bring

And none be found to hear or save.

And in that land of deep des­pair

No Sab­bath’s heav’n­ly light shall rise

No God re­gard your bit­ter pray­er

No Sav­ior call you to the skies.

No won­ders to the dead are shown

The won­ders of re­deem­ing love;

No voice His glo­ri­ous truth makes known

Nor sings the bliss of climes ab­ove.

Silence

and so­li­tude

and gloom

In those for­get­ful realms ap­pear:

Deep sor­rows fill the dis­mal tomb

And hope shall nev­er en­ter there.