The Harvest Is Passing

Hark

sin­ner

while God

From on high doth en­treat thee

And warn­ings with ac­cents

Of mer­cy doth blend;

Give ear to His voice

Lest in judg­ment He meet thee;

The har­vest is pass­ing

The sum­mer will end.

The har­vest is pass­ing

The sum­mer will end;

The har­vest is pass­ing

The sum­mer will end.

How oft of thy dan­ger

And guilt He hath told thee!

How oft still the mes­sage

Of mer­cy doth send!

Haste

haste

while He waits in

His arms to en­fold thee:

The har­vest is pass­ing

The sum­mer will end.

Despised and re­ject­ed

At length He may leave thee:

What ang­uish and hor­ror

Thy bo­som will rend!

Then haste thee

O sin­ner

While He will re­ceive thee:

The har­vest is pass­ing

The sum­mer will end.

The Sav­ior will call thee

In judg­ment be­fore Him;

Oh

bow to His scep­ter

And make Him thy friend;

Now yield Him thy heart

And make haste to ad­ore Him:

The har­vest is pass­ing

The sum­mer will end.