The soul within me longs for rest,
And sighs for Heaven’s home;
Then shall I spurn the blest request,
And still in darkness roam?
Remember thou who spurn the light,
To walk in Satan’s wiles,
The shadowy road to deepest night,
Is paved with after-whiles.
Each one may to his Savior go,
Obedience is the sum;
Christ says in accents sweet and low,
Whoever will may come.
My soul in conflict with my will,
My earthly man retorts
Some other time will do.
Oh, why not enter now the fold,
The Gospel trumpet warns;
That you might wear a crown of gold,
Christ wore a crown of thorns.