J. H. Lester
HUSH, my soul, what Voice is pleading?
Thou canst feel its silent power;
Who is this that speaks so gently
In this solemn evening hour?
Stay, poor sinner; life is fleeting,
And thy soul is dark within;
Wilt thou wait till outer darkness
Close in gloom thy life of sin?
2
Hark! it is a Voice of sweetness,
Tenderly it speaks, and true!
Dark and sad, yet strangely yearning
For a peace I never knew,
Half-inclined to stay and listen,
Half-inclined to go away;
Still I linger, for it whispers,
Harden not thy heart today.
3
What is this that steals upon me?
Can it be that at my side,
In His own mysterious Presence,
Stands the wondrous Crucified?
“Why, poor sinner, wilt thou linger?
I am waiting to forgive;
See the meaning of these wound-prints;
I have died, that thou mayest live.”
4
Hush, my soul, it is thy Saviour!
And He seeks His lost one now;
He is waiting; flee not from Him,
Venture near, before Him bow;
Tell thy sins, He will forgive thee;
And He will not love thee less;
For the human heart of Jesus
Overflows with tenderness.
