The Christian's Firm Bank
I have a never-failing bank,
A more than golden store;
No earthly bank is half so rich--
How can I then be poor?
'Tis when my stock is spent and gone,
And I without a groat,
I'm glad to hasten to my bank,
And beg a little note.
Sometimes my banker, smiling, says,
"Why don't you oftener come?
And when you draw a little note,
Why not a larger sum;
Why live so niggardly and poor--
Your bank containeth plenty?
Why come and take a one-pound note,
When you might have twenty?
'Yea, twenty thousand, ten times told,
Is but a trifling sum
To what your Father has laid up,
Secure in God, His Son."
Since, then, my banker is so rich,
I have no cause to borrow;
I'll live upon my cash to-day,
And draw again to-morrow.
I've been a thousand times before,
And never was rejected;
Sometimes my banker gives me more
Than asked for or expected!
Sometimes I've felt a little proud
I've managed things so clever;
But, ah! before the day was gone,
I've felt as poor as ever.
Sometimes, with blushes in my face,
just at the door I stand;
I know if Moses kept me back,
I surely must be damned.
I know my bank will never break--
No! it can never fail:
The firm--three persons in one God--
Jehovah--Lord of all!
Should all the banks in Britain break,
The Bank of England smash--
Bring in your notes to Sion's bank,
You'll surely have your cash;
And if you have but one small note,
Fear not to bring it in;
Come boldly to this throne of grace--
The banker is within.
All forged notes will be refused,
Man-merits are rejected;
There's not a single note will pass
That God has not accepted.
'Tis only those beloved of God,
Redeemed by precious blood,
That ever had a note to bring--
These are the gift of God.
Though a thousand ransomed souls may say
They have no notes at all,
Because they feel the plague of sin,
So ruined by the fall:
This bank is full of precious notes,
All signed, and sealed, and free;
Though many doubting souls may say
There is not one for me.
Base unbelief will lead the child
To say what is not true;
I tell the soul that feels self-lost,
These notes belong to you.
The leper had a little note--
"Lord, if thou wilt, thou can!"
The banker cashed his little note,
And healed the sickly man.
We read of one young man, indeed,
Whose riches did abound;
But in the banker's book of grace
This man was never found.
But see the wretched dying thief
Hang by the banker's side;
He cried, "Dear Lord, remember me!"
He got his cash--and died.
Rev. Lachlan MacKenzie, Lochcarron, Scotland