Hear, mortals bear, and all that dwell below,
The Promise hear,—and gird your armor on;
Nor let affliction daunt you as you go,
But take the cross—the crown our Savior won.
The tree of life has healing powers for all;
And underneath its branches all may rest:
Awake, all Nations, march at Jesus' call,
For soon your conflict 's o'er, and ye are blest.
Those gates, twelve gates, which never shut by day,
Unfold new glories, there the promise is;
There Jesus leads captivity away,
And holy souls enjoy their promis'd bliss.
Great day! glad day! responsive angels say:
Sinners, repent, and read your Bibles more;
Nor tempt His anger by your long delay,
But knock, and you shall find an open door.
Christ is the door, the truth, the only way,
And in His pastures, weary souls may find
A safe Conductor to eternal day,—
While on His arm our cares are all resign'd.
There is a balm in Gilead—sinners, come,
Eternal life for every contrite soul;
The great Physician brings His children home,
To heal the sick, and make the wounded whole.