The Spirit came back to the tall, fair youth,
With a loving and tender plea;
"The harvest is ready, there is work to be done,
Arise, God is calling for thee."
"O Spirit," he cried, "leave me, I pray;
The pleasures of earth hold me in sway;
Some other day, some other day;
Then, Holy Spirit, I'll bid Thee stay."

The Spirit pled thus with the toil-worn man,
"Make haste while God's grace shall last;
The silver is tinging thy locks of brown,
Thy years are now slipping by fast."
"O Spirit," He cried, "I should obey,
But I am too busy and tired to pray;
Some other day, some other day;
When I have time I will bid Thee stay."

The old man now leans on his trembling staff
With a quivering, bitter sigh;
"I've wasted a lifetime in sin," he cried,
"And now I am going to die;
The Spirit, long slighted, has flown away;
No hope, no God, I cannot pray;
No other day, no other day;
The Holy Spirit has gone to stay."

Marvin Lewis