Vain Man, Thy Fond Pursuits Forbear

Vain man

thy fond pur­suits for­bear—

Repent

thine end is nigh;

Death at the far­thest can’t be far:

Oh! think be­fore thou die.

Reflect

thou hast a soul to save;

Thy sins

how high they mount!

What are thy hopes be­yond the grave?

How stands that dark ac­count?

Death en­ters

and there’s no de­fense;

His time there’s none can tell;

He’ll in a mo­ment call thee hence

To Heav­en

or to hell.

Thy flesh

per­haps thy great­est care

Shall crawl­ing worms con­sume;

But

ah! de­struc­tion stops not there;

Sin kills be­yond the tomb.

Today

the Gos­pel calls

to­day

Sinners

it speaks to you;

Let ev­ery one for­sake his way

And mer­cy will ensue.

Rich mer­cy

dear­ly bought with blood

How vile soe’er he be;

Abundant par­don

peace with God

All giv’n en­tire­ly free.