All May Come To Jesus

  Not Too Late



THE rosy light is dawning

Upon the mountain's brow;

It is the Sabbath morning -

Arise and pay thy vow.

Lift up thy voice to heaven

In sacred praise and prayer,

While unto thee is given

The light of life to share.

The landscape lately shrouded

By evening's paler air,

Smiles beauteous and unclouded

Before the eye of day:

So let our souls benighted

Too long in folly's shade,

By thy kind smiles be lighted

To joys that never fade.


MY mother dear, when shall I see

That Holy City fair and free.

Which father reads about?

When shall I see its pearly gates?

When shall I walk its golden streets,

And hear the ransomed shout?

When shall I see the glorious throne,

There in the New Jerusalem,

And dwell with Christ our King?

When shall I walk those lovely plains,

And hear the lofty, lovely strains,

Which the redeemed shall sing?

My mother dear, O, shall I see

The tree of life, that lovely tree,

And pluck its golden fruit?

Shall I there pluck unfading flowers,

Which blossom in its lovely bowers,

Where all is fair and good 

And shall I see that glorious light,

Like jasper stone so fair and bright,

And river pure and clear?

And shall I be from sin made free?

Most glorious thought! When will it be?

Pray tell me, mother dear.


My child, 'twill be when Jesus comes

And purifies the earth,

That all this glory will be seen

In its true real worth.

'Twill not be long, the signs are past

Which spake his coming nigh.

We now with joy lift up our heads,

Knowing redemption's nigh.

And if you make the Word of God

Your counsel and your guide,

He'll be the fortress and the tower

In which you may abide.

His Word's a treasure to the heart

Of those who love him here:

From which they feel they cannot part,

Till Jesus doth appear.

Then let your heart, my darling child,

Its grateful homage pay

To him who all things freely gives,

And guides you everyday.

And then when Christ the Saviour comes,

With all these glories bright,

You will with joy lift up your head

And hail the holy light.


 The breath of prayer comes from the 

life of faith. Never think God's delays are


Prayer, if it be done as a task, is no prayer.

     Let me entreat of you to pause now in this

 downward course, turn again to that Saviour

 whom you have so deeply grieved, and by 

supplication and prayer make your peace with 

him ere it is forever too late. That "day of wrath"

 and "desolation" is soon coming. Many will pray

 then, when they can no longer be heard. Those 

who now reject the calls of offered mercy, will

 then cry in vain, for there will be no more hope.

 O, will you "neglect so great salvation;" and at

 last this be the language of your soul: "The 

harvest is past the summer is ended and we are

 not saved." O fly! fly! To the ark of refuge now,

 while Jesus is yet in the "Most Holy" pleading 

his blood for you.

Rest not till you are assured you have his 

pardoning smiles.

My young friends who have never given their 

hearts to God, come, oh come to Jesus now.  

He is waiting to receive you.  

Will you grieve Him by longer delay

Remember He gave His precious life 

a ransom for yours. 

He offers you a free and full salvation. 

You will wish to have a shelter in the

 coming storm,  but to obtain it, you must 

prepare now. Then "Seek ye the Lord while he 

may be found, call ye upon him while he is near." 

A. N. H., Feb. 1st, 1854.