O plodding life!  Crowded so full

Of  earthly toil and care!

The  body’s daily need receives

The first and last concern and leaves

No  room for Jesus there.

 

0 busy brain! By  day and night

Working with  patience rare,

Problems of  worldly loss or gain,

Thinking till thought becomes  a pain

No  room for Jesus there.

 

0 throbbing heart! so quick  to feel

In others woes a share

Yet human loves  each power enthrall,

And sordid treasures  fill it all

No  room for Jesus there.

 

0 sinful soul! Thus to debase

The being God doth spare!

Blood-bought thou art! No  more thine  own;

Heart, brain, life, all are His alone

Make room for Jesus there,

 

Lest soon the bitter  day shall come

When  vain  will be thy prayer

To find in Jesus’ heart a place:

Forever  closed  the door of  grace,

Thou’lt gain no entrance there.

Anonymous