'Twas the night before Jesus came and all through the house,
not a creature was praying, not one in the house.
Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without care,
in hopes that Jesus would not soon come there.
The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
not one was there kneeling or bowing a head.
And Mom in her rocker with baby on lap,
was watching the Late Show while I took a nap.
When out of the East there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what's the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutters and threw up the sash!
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but angels proclaiming that Jesus was here.
With a light like the sun sending forth a bright ray,
I knew in a moment this must be The Day.
The light of His face made me cover my head,
it was Jesus returning just like He had said.
And though I possessed worldy wisdom and wealth,
I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.
In the Book of Life, which He held in His hand,
was written the name of every saved man.
He spoke not a word as He searched for my name,
when He said, "It's not here!", my head hung in shame.
The people whose names had been written with love,
He gathered to take to His Father above.
With those who were ready He rose with no sound,
and the rest of us left here -- just standing around.
I fell to my knees, but it was too late,
I had waited too long, and thus sealed my fate.
I stood and cried as they rose out of sight,
O if only I readied my soul for this night.