Shut Out.

A poem by John Hartley

"The drunkard shall not enter the Kingdom of Heaven."

Far, far beyond the skies,
The land of promise lies;
When Death our souls release,
A home of love and peace,
Has been prepared for all,
Who heed the gracious call,
Drunkards that goal ne'er win, -
They cannot enter in.

Time noiselessly flits by,
Eternity draws nigh;
Will the fleet joy you gain,
Compensate for the pain,
That through an endless day,
Will wring your soul for aye?
Slave to beer, rum, or gin,
You cannot enter in.

Dash down the flowing bowl,
Endanger not thy soul;
Ponder those words of dread,
That God Himself has said.
Hurl the vile tempter down,
And win and wear the crown,
Drunkard, forsake thy sin,
Thou mayst then enter in.

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