If the spirit is knocking at the door of your heart,
Do not turn His plea away;
If you heed not His wooings,
He'll forever depart.
Then 'twill be too late to pray.
When on death's bed you're lying,
Still astray the fold,
It an awful day;
There will be no repenting at the portals of gold,
It will be too late to pray.
As you stand at the judgment,
There before the white throne,
On that great and final day;
When the life book is opened and
your deeds have been made known,
It will be too late to pray.
It will be too late to pray,
On that great and awful day,
If your're lost my friend,
When you face the end,
It will be too late to pray.
By Clyde Wright & Eugene Wright © 1932 Otis L. McCoy, owner