"Three Calls" by Isaac Baker Woodbury
 

Historic Sheet Music Collection

Document Type

Score

Publication Date

1858

Comments

The Three Calls

Or the Eleventh Hour.

Music composed by Isaac Baker Woodbury

Boston: O. Ditson & Co. (1858)

Some of the resources may contain offensive language or negative stereotypes. Such materials should be seen in the context of the time period and as a reflection of attitudes of the time. The items are part of the historical record, and do not represent the views of the libraries or the institution.

Lyrics

[Third Hour]
O slumberer, rouse thee! despise not the truth
But give thy Creator the days of thy youth;
Why standest there idle! The day breaketh, see!
The Lord of the vineyard is waiting for thee.
“Holy Spirit, by thy power,
Grant me yet another hour;
Earthly pleasures I would prove,
Earthly joy, and earthly love;
Scarcely yet has dawned the day;
Holy Spirit, wait I pray!

Hark! Borne on the wind is the bell’s solemn toll;
‘Tis mournfully pealing the knell of a soul
The spirit’s sweet pleadings and strivings are o’er;
The Lord of the vineyard stands waiting not more.

[Sixth and Ninth Hours]
O loiterer, speed thee! the morn wear a pace;
Then squander no longer the moments of grace,
But haste while there’s time!
With thy Master agree;
The Lord of the vineyard stands waiting for thee.
Gentle Spirit, stay, oh stay,
Brightly beams the early day;
Let me linger in these bowers;
God shall have my noontide hours;
Chide me not, for my delay,
Gentle Spirit, wait, I pray!

Hark! Borne on the wind is the bell’s solemn toll;
‘Tis mournfully pealing the knell of a soul
The spirit’s sweet pleadings and strivings are o’er;
The Lord of the vineyard stands waiting not more.

[Eleventh Hour]
O sinner, arouse thee! thy morning is pass’d;
Already the shadows are lengthening fast;
Escape, for thy life!
From the dark mountains flee;
The Lord of the vineyard yet waiteth for thee.
Spirit, cease thy mournful lay,
Leave me to myself, I pray;
Earth hath flung her spell around me,
Pleasure’s silken chain hath bound me;
When the sun his path hath trod,
Spirit, then I’ll turn to God!”

Hark! Borne on the wind is the bell’s solemn toll;
‘Tis mournfully pealing the knell of a soul
The spirit’s sweet pleadings and strivings are o’er;
The Lord of the vineyard stands waiting not more.

Share

COinS
 

The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.