Not now, my child
Not now, my child, a little more rough tossing,
A little longer on the billows� foam;
A few more journeyings in the desert darkness,
And then, the sunshine of thy Father�s home!
Not now, for I have wand�rers in the distance,
And thou must call them in with patient love;
Not now, for I have sheep upon the mountain,
And thou must follow them where�er they rove.
Not now; for I have loved ones sad and weary;
Wilt thou not cheer them with a kindly smile?
Sick ones, who need thee in their lonely sorrow;
Wilt thou not tend them yet a little while?
Not now, for wounded hearts are sorely bleeding
And thou must teach those widowed hearts to sing:
Not now; for orphans� tears are quickly falling,
They must be gathered �neath some sheltering wing.
Go, with the Name of Jesus, to the dying,
And speak that Name in all its living power;
Why should thy fainting heart grow chill and weary?
Canst thou not watch with Me one little hour?
One little hour! and then the glorious crowning,
The golden harp-strings, and the victor�s palm;
One little hour! and then the hallelujah!
Eternity�s long, deep thanksgiving psalm!
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