‘Twas the Night Jesus Came

 ‘Twas the night Jesus came and all through the house

Not a person was praying, not one in the house.

The Bible was left on the shelf without care,

For no one thought Jesus would ever come there.

The children were dressed to crawl into bed,

Not once ever kneeling or bowing a head.

And Mom in her rocker with baby in 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 lifted the sash!

When what to my wondering eyes should appear

But angels proclaiming that Jesus was here!

The light of His face made me cover my head—

It was Jesus returning, just as He 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 sound

While all of 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.

I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight;

Oh, if only I’d know that this was the night.