There Is A Rock In A Weary Land

There is a Rock in a weary land,

Its shadow falls on the burning sand,

Inviting pilgrims as they pass,

To seek a shade in the wilderness.

Then why will ye die?

O why will ye die?

When the sheltering Rock is so near by,

O why will ye die?

There is a Well in a desert plain,

Its waters call with entreating strain,

"Ho, every thirsting, sin sick soul,

Come, freely drink, and thou shalt be whole."

Then why will ye die?

O why will ye die?

When the living Well is so near by,

O why will ye die?

A great fold stands with its portals wide,

The sheep astray on the mountain side;

The Shepherd climbs o'er mountains steep;

He's searching now for His wandering sheep.

Then why will ye die?

O why will ye die?

When the Shepherd's fold is so near by,

O why will ye die?

There is a cross where the Savior died;

His blood flowed out in a crimson tide,

A sacrifice for sins of men,

And free to all who will enter in.

Then why will ye die?

O why will ye die?

When the crimson cross is so near by,

O why will ye die?