Classic Poem

I.

Where, saith the mourner, is this Christ,
That call the hungry to a feast?
Where is that grace proclaim'd so free?
Say, herald, point the way to me.

II.

If, as you say, he spilt his blood,
To bring immortal souls to GOD ;
Then tell me, tell me, where I'll go,
To find if this be true, or no?

III.

" Well, saith the Saviour, hear I be?
" Where is the soul inquiries for me?
" I by my spirit now declare,
" My grace is free, and you may share. "

IV.

O saith the soul, I wou'd receive;
Speak, Lord, and help me to believe;
Since thou declar'dst thy grace is free,
O give one precious drop to me.

V.

" I wait, saith Jesus, at your door,
" With love that knows no bound nor shore;
" And far more free I am to give,
" Than you are willing to receive.

VI.

" Freely I die, I mourn, I bleed,
" I weep, I wait, promise and plead;
" Lab'ring for you all dress'd in gore,
" What can I do or offer more?

VII.

" Say, will you now my love abuse,
" And all the joys of heav'n refuse;
" Must I leave you? must I go?
" Will you choose eternal wo?

VIII.

" O be beseech'd to hear my voice,
" And make eternal life your choice;
" Say, will you choose to sink in hell?
" Or else with me in glory dwell?