AN ENDLESS PROCESSION

A hundred thousand

souls a day

Are passing one

by one away,

In Christless guilt

and gloom,

Without one ray of hope

or light,

With future dark

as endless night,

They’re passing to their doom.

O Holy Ghost,

thy people move,

Baptize their hearts

with faith and love,

And consecrate their gold.

At Jesus’ feet

their millions pour,

And all their ranks

unite once more,

As in the days of yore.

The Master’s coming draweth near,

The Son of Man

will soon appear,

His Kingdom is at hand.

But ere that glorious

day can be,

This gospel

of the Kingdom we

Must preach to every land.

They’re passing,

passing fast away,

A hundred thousand

souls a day,

In Christless guilt

and gloom,

Oh, Church of Christ,

what wilt thou say

When in that awful

Judgment Day

They charge thee with their doom.

-A.B. Simpson