Not Now, My Child

Verse 1

Not now, my child, a little more rough tossing, A little longer on the billow's foam; A few more journ'yings in the desert darkness, And then, the sunshine of thy Father's home!

Verse 2

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 mountains, And thou must follow them where'er they rove.

Verse 3

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?

Verse 4

Not now; for wounded hearts are sorely bleeding, And thou must teach those widowed hearts to sing; Not now; for orphans' tears are ever falling, They must be gathered 'neath some shelt'ring wing.

Verse 5

Go, with the name of Jesus to the dying, And speak that Name in all its living pow'r; Why should thy fainting heart grow chill and weary? Canst thou not watch with me one little hour?

Verse 6

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!