Christian G. Buerge
'Tis midnight and the Saviour calls:
"Come unto Me, both great and small;
From every kindred, nation, tongue;
Come one, come all, come old and young."
'Tis midnight and we hear the cry,
The Saviour now is passing by.
Oh, will you let Him call in vain,
Lie down and fall asleep again?
Ye slumb'ring nations, wake and rise,
Lift up your heads, look to the skies;
The Saviour's invitation heed,
Awake, arise, and make full speed!
Bring oil in lamps and march along
The Lord to meet a happy throng;
The precious time may soon be o'er,
You'll hear the Saviour's call no more.
Now is the time, the day of grace,
For all the fallen human race;
Come to the Lord, accept His hand,
Or soon you must rejected stand.
Oh, will you now the call obey,
Or will you longer ling'ring stay,
Until you hear the trumpet sound,
The rise for the quaking ground?
Then make your bed in torments where
God will not hear your bitter prayer.
Gnashing of teeth will be your doom,
No light, no hope—eternal gloom.
Oh will you make that awful choice?
Or will you hear the Saviour's voice?
"Come unto me while yet I call,
For now I will forgive you all."