Sinner, seeking thee to save,
One his life a ransom gave;
Hear his voice inviting, still,
Come ye, whosoever will.
Mercy’s hour is waning fast:
Ere thy day of grace be past,
From the storm for refuge flee;
Rise! The Master calleth thee! HHHH 46.2
Pilgrim, weary of the road,
Which thy footsteps long have trod,
Lingering on the enchanted ground,
Be not for a moment found;
But the scattered remnant feed,
Tearful, sowing precious seed.
Ere the harvest time shall be,
Rise! the Master calleth thee! HHHH 46.3
Mourner, bowed with heavy grief,
Prisoner, sighing for relief,
Wanderer, o’er the trackless main,
Sufferer, on the couch of pain,
Ye that struggle, mourn and weep,
Still the heavenly watchword keep;
Soon He’ll set the captives free;
Rise! the Master calleth thee! HHHH 47.1