Not Now, My Child

Verse 1:
Not now, my child,– a little more rough tossing,
A little longer on the billows’ foam;
A few more journeyings in the desert darkness,
And then, the sunshine of thy Father’s Home!

Verse 2:
Not now; for I have wand’rs 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 quickly falling,
They must be gathered ‘neath some sheltering wing.

Verse 5:
Go, with the name of Jesus, to the dying,
And speak that Name in all its living power;
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!

Mrs. Pennefeather/Ira D. Sankey

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