THE FOUR CALLS.
THE Spirit came in childhood,
And pleaded, "Let me in;"
But ah, the door was bolted
And barred by childish sin.
The child said, "I'm too little;
There's time enough today;
I cannot open;" sadly
The Spirit went his way.
Again he came and pleaded
In youth's bright, happy hour,
He called, but heard no answer;
For fettered in sin's power,
The youth lay dreaming idly,
And crying, "Not today;
For I must have some pleasure;"
Again he turned away.
Again he came in mercy,
In manhood's vigorous prime;
But still could find no welcome,
The merchant had "No time"
To spare for true repentance,
No time to praise and pray;
And thus repulsed and saddened,
The Spirit turned away.
Once more he called and waited,
The man was old and sad;
He scarcely heard the whisper,
His heart was seared and bad.
Go, leave me. When I need thee
I'll call for thee, "he cried;
Then, sinking on his pillow,
Without a God he died!
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