To the Sinner

Open thy doors, O stubborn heart,
Thy gates of stone fling wide apart,
The Lord of heaven is come !
He left for thee His throne and state,
Intent to take thee for His mate,
And make thy heart His home.

Long has He tracked thy devious way,
And seen thee wandering far astray,
Upon destruction bent.
But yet He would not thee forsake,
Nor from thee would His mercy take,
But oft deliverance sent

He called : His voice thou wouldst not hear ;
He frowned : His wrath thou wouldst not fear ;
His gifts were all misused.
But still He plied His thankless task,
And condescended oft to ask,
Though oft He was refused.

Look forth, and see who courts thy love.
And longs to take thee for His dove,
To nestle in His breast.
Fain would He break thy galling chain,
Fain would He all thy foes restrain,
And lead thee into rest.

What hast thou to be valued more
Than He who stands thy gate before,
And access seeks to win ?
Art thou not wretched, naked, blind,
With unclean heart, distempered mind.
All darkness and all sin ?

Awake, O Spirit of the Son,
Thy olden works again be done,
In opening closed hearts.
Put in Thy hand, the bars undo,
The carnal mind with grace renew,
Before the Lord departs.

Without Thee, vain the trumpet’s blast.
In vain the summons wide we cast,
Till Thou Thy help extend.
Our field with precious seed is sown,
But yet with thorns ’tis all o’ergrown
Till Thou in rain descend.

Praises to Him the Son who gave ;
Praises to Him who came to save ;
But praises, too, to Thee
Who goest forth to work unseen
(Tho’ soon we know where Thou hast bee:i)
To set the captive free.

-John Milne, from The Life of John Milne by Horatius Bonar, Banner of Truth Trust, 66-67.

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