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1820–1897

THOU THAT SLEEPEST NOT AFRAID.

Jean Ingelow

Thou that sleepest not afraid, Men and angels thee upbraid; Rise, cry, cry to God aloud, Ere the swift hours weave thy shroud:

O, for Jesus’ sake, Wake! Thee full ill doth it beseem Through the dark to drowse and dream;

In the dead-time of the night Here is One can give thee light: O, for Jesus’ sake, Wake!

The year passeth — it and all God shall take and shall let fall Soon, into the whelming sea Of His wide eternity:

O, for Jesus’ sake, Wake! Noiseless as the flakes of snow The last moments falter and go;

The time-angel sent this way Sweeps them like a drift away: O, for Jesus’ sake, Wake!

Loved and watch'd of heaven, for whom The crowned Saviour there makes room, Sleeper, hark! He calls thee, rise, Lift thy head, and raise thine eyes!

Now, for Jesus’ sake, Wake!

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THOU THAT SLEEPEST NOT AFRAID. · Jean Ingelow · Poetry Cove