The heavenly bank

I know a never-failing bank,
Well filled with golden store;
No other bank contains so much
That can enrich the poor;
Should all the banks of Europe break,
the Bank of England fail,
Fear not that heaven’s glorious bank
Its discounts will curtail.

Though a thousand notes be scattered round,
All signed and sealed and free,
Yet, many a doubting soul will say:
Ah! They are not for me!
Proud unbelief cannot admit
Such tidings to be true,
And yet, I tell the bankrupts soul:
These notes belong to you.

I too right at the door have been
With painful doubts molested,
Knowing, if Moses keeps the bank,
My notes has been protested.
Some fear they write so bad a hand,
Their notes will be rejected.
But always humble soul obtain
Much more than they expected.

Whenever all my money’s spent,
And I’m in utter need,
Straight to my bank I always go
For generous aid to plead.
I’ve been a thousand times before,
And never was rejected;
No notes can ever be refused,
That are by grace accepted.

Should all top bankers close their doors,
My bank stands open wide,
To all the chosen of the lord
For whom the Savior died.
Sometimes my banker smiling says:
“Why don’t you oftener come?”
And when I draw a little bill,
“Why not a larger sum?”

R. Hill