Twas the Night before Jesus

‘Twas the night before Jesus came,
when all through the house,
Not a creature was praying,
Not one in the house;
The Bibles were laid on the shelf without care
In hopes that JESUS would not come there;

The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
Not once ever 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 was 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 worldly 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 without a sound
While all the rest were left standing around.
I fell to my knees, but it was too late;
I had waited too long and thus sealed my fate.