Soon the evening shadows falling
Close the day of mortal life;
Soon the hand of death appalling
Draws thee from its weary strife.
Cho. -- Are you ready? are you ready?
'Tis the Spirit calling, why delay?
Are you ready? are you ready?
Do not linger longer, come to-day.
2 Soon the awful trumpet sounding
Calls thee to the judgment throne;
Now prepare, for love abounding
Yet has left thee not alone.
3 Oh, how fatal 'tis to linger!
Art thou ready -- ready now?
Ready should Death's icy finger
Lay its chill upon thy brow?
4 Priceless love and free salvation
Freely still are offered thee;
Yield no longer to temptation,
But from sin and sorrow flee.
J. W. Slaughenhaupt.