| There is a Rock in a weary land,Its shadow falls on the burning sand,
 Inviting pilgrims as they pass,
 To seek a shade in the wilderness.
 Then why will ye die?
 O why will ye die?
 When the sheltering Rock is so near by,
 O why will ye die?
 There is a Well in a desert plain,Its waters call with entreating strain,
 “Ho, every thirsting, sin sick soul,
 Come, freely drink, and thou shalt be whole.”
 Then why will ye die?
 O why will ye die?
 When the living Well is so near by,
 O why will ye die?
 A great fold stands with its portals wide,The sheep astray on the mountain side;
 The Shepherd climbs o’er mountains steep;
 He’s searching now for His wandering sheep.
 Then why will ye die?
 O why will ye die?
 When the Shepherd’s fold is so near by,
 O why will ye die?
 There is a cross where the Savior died;His blood flowed out in a crimson tide,
 A sacrifice for sins of men,
 And free to all who will enter in.
 Then why will ye die?
 O why will ye die?
 When the crimson cross is so near by,
 O why will ye die?
 |