With mar­vel­ous pa­tience
Has Je­sus been stand­ing,
Again and again at
The door of thy heart;
He will not be al­ways
Thus scorned and re­ject­ed,
But, wea­ried and grieved, may
Forever de­part.
There’ll come a last time,
A last time, friend;
Thy sea­son of grace will be o’er;
There’ll come a last time,
There’ll come a last time,
And mer­cy will knock no more.

The Sav­ior who died on
The cross to re­deem thee,
As thy in­ter­cess­or
Imploringly stands;
Thy case with the Fa­ther
He ev­er­more plead­eth,
And points to the prints of
The nails in His hands.
There’ll come a last time,
A last time, friend;
Thy sea­son of grace will be o’er;
There’ll come a last time,
There’ll come a last time,
And Je­sus will plead no more.

To high­er at­tain­ments
The Spir­it is call­ing,
And bids thee in full­ness
Of bless­ing re­joice;
The years have gone by with
His call­ing un­heed­ed,
And faint­er and faint­er
Now grow­eth His voice.
There’ll come a last time,
A last time, friend;
Thy sea­son of grace will be o’er;
There’ll come a last time,
There’ll come a last time,
The Spir­it will call no more.

Be warned of thy dan­ger,
Accept of God’s mer­cy,
Lest, kin­dled against thee,
His an­ger should burn,
Lest jus­tice pre­vail and
Thy sea­son be ov­er;
Then vain all thy ef­forts
To Christ to return.
There’ll come a last time,
A last time, friend;
Thy sea­son of grace will be o’er;
There’ll come a last time,
There’ll come a last time,
Thy soul shall be lost ev­er­more.