When the harvest is past, and the summer is gone, And sermons and prayers shall be o’er; When the beams cease to break of the sweet Sabbath morn, And Jesus invites thee no more; When the rich gales of mercy no longer shall blow, The Gospel no message declare; Sinner, how canst thou bear the deep wailings of woe? How suffer the night of despair? When the holy have gone to the regions of peace, To dwell in the mansions above, When their harmony wakes, in the fullness of bliss, Their song to the Savior they love. Say, O sinner, who livest at rest, and secure, Who fearest no trouble to come, Can thy spirit the swellings of sorrow endure, Or bear the impenitent’s doom?