(The writer of the following is unknown.)
When all the great plants of our cities
Have turned out their last finished work;
When our merchants have sold their last yard of silk,
And dismissed the tired, weary clerk;
When our banks have taken in their last dollar
And declared their last dividend;
When the Judge of the world says, "Closed for the night,"
And asks for a balance - WHAT THEN?
When the chorus has sung its last anthem
And the preacher has said his last prayer;
When the people have heard their last sermon
And the sound has died out on the air;
When the Bible lies closed on the altar
And the pews are all empty of men,
When we all stand facing the record
And the Great Book is opened - WHAT THEN?
When the actor has played his last drama
And the mimic has made his last fun;
When the film has flashed its last picture
And the billboard displayed its last run;
When the crowds seeking pleasure have vanished,
And gone out into darkness again,
When the Trumpet of all Ages is sounded
And we all stand before God - WHAT THEN?
When the bugle's last call sinks in silence
And the long, marching columns stand still;
When the Captain has given his last orders,
And they've captured the last fort and hill,
When the flag has been hauled from the masthead,
And all wounded soldiers have checked in;
When a world that rejected its Savior,
Is asked for a reason - WHAT THEN?