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