While life prolongs its precious light,
Mercy is found, and peace is given;
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 heavenly light shall rise,
No God regard your bitter prayer,
No Savior call you to the skies.
About the writer: Timothy Dwight, a distinguished Congregational minister and educator, was born in Northampton, Massachusetts in 1752. His mother was a daughter of Jonathan Edwards. He entered Yale College at the age of 13 and, graduating four years later, became a tutor; which position he resigned in 1777 to become chaplain in the Revolutionary army. He later became a pastor in Greenfield, Connecticut and, in 1795, was elected president of Yale College. He remained in this position until his death in 1817. He was the author of about a dozen hymns.
Key Verse: Know this: A homeowner who knew exactly when a burglar was coming would not permit the house to be broken into. –Luke 12:39