202 The Stranger at the Door. L.M. _At the Door._ (429) Behold a stranger at the door, He gently knocks, has knocked before; Has waited long, is waiting still; You treat no other friend so ill. Cho.--Oh, let the dear Savior come in, He'll cleanse the heart from sin, Oh, keep him no more out at the door, But let the dear Savior come in. 2 Oh, lovely attitude--he stands With melting heart and loaded hands; Oh, matchless kindness--and he shows This matchless kindness to his foes. 3 But will he prove a friend indeed? He will--the very friend you need; The Friend of sinners? Yes, 'tis he. With garments died on Calvary. 4 Rise, touched with gratitude divine, Turn out his enemy and thine; That soul-destroying monster, sin, And let the heavenly stranger in. 5 Admit him, ere his anger burn-- His feet, departed, ne'er return; Admit him, or the hour's at hand You'll at his door rejected stand. Joseph Grigg, 1765. 203 The Stranger at the Door. L.M. _Why Not Be Saved To-Night?_ (430) Oh, do not let the word depart, And close thine eyes against the light; Poor-sinner, harden not thy heart; Thou would'st be saved, why not to-night? 2 To-morrow's sun may never rise To bless thy long-deluded sight; This is the time, oh, then be wise! Thou would'st be saved, why not to-night? 3 Our God in pity lingers still; And wilt thou thus his love requite? Renounce at length thy stubborn will; Thou would'st be saved, why not to-night? 4 The world has nothing left to give, It has no new, no pure delight; Oh, try the life which Christians live; Thou would'st be saved, why not to-night? 204 Spanish Hymn. 7s. D. _Sinners, Turn!_ Sinners, turn; why will ye die? God, your Maker, asks you why? God, who did your being give, Made you with himself to live; He the fatal cause demands; Asks the work of his own hands,-- Why, ye thankless creatures, why Will ye cross his love, and die? 2 Sinners, turn; why will ye die? God, your Savior, asks you why? He, who did your souls retrieve, Died himself, that ye might live. Will ye let him die in vain? Crucify your Lord again? Why, ye ransomed sinners, why Will ye slight his grace and die? 3 Sinners, turn; why will ye die? God; the Spirit, asks you why? He who all your lives hath strove, Urged you to embrace his love. Will ye not his grace receive? Will ye still refuse to live? O ye dying sinners, why, Why will ye forever die? Rev. C. Wesley, 1745. 205 Spanish Hymn. 7s. D. _Delay._ (454) Hasten, sinner! to be wise, Stay not for the morrow's sun; Wisdom, if thou still despise, Harder is she to be won. 2 Hasten, mercy to implore, Stay not for the morrow's sun, Lest thy season should be o'er, Ere this evening's stage be run. 3 Hasten, sinner! to return, Stay not for the morrow's sun, Lest thy lamp should fail to burn, Ere salvation's work is done.