The Christians Firm Bank

I have a never-failing bank,

A more than golden store;

No earthly bank is half so rich;

How, then, can I be poor?

’Tis when my stock is spent and gone

And I without a groat*,

I’m glad to hasten to my bank

And beg a little note.
[*An English coin worth four pence.]

Sometimes my Banker, smiling, says,

“Why don’t you oft’ner come?

And when you draw a little note,

Why not a larger sum?

“Why live so niggardly and poor?

Your bank contains a plenty.

Why come and take a one-pound note,

When you might have a twenty?

“Yea, twenty thousand ten times told

Is but a trifling sum

To what your Father has laid up

Secure in Christ, His Son.”

Since, then, my Banker is so rich,

I have no cause to borrow;

I’ll live upon my cash today,

And draw again tomorrow.

I’ve been a thousand times before,

And never was rejected;

Sometimes my Banker gives me more

Than asked for or expected.

Sometimes I’ve felt a little proud

I’ve managed things so clever;

But, ah! before the day is gone

I’ve felt as poor as ever.

Should all the banks in Britain break,

And that of England smash,

Bring in your notes to Zion’s bank;

You’ll surely have your cash.

And if you have but one small note,

Fear not to bring it in;

Come boldly to the bank of Grace;

Banker is within.

All forged notes will be refused;

Man-merits are rejected;

There not a single note will pass

That God has not accepted.

This bank is full of precious notes,

All signed and sealed and free,

Though many a doubting soul may say,

“There is not one for me.”

The leper had a little note—

“Lord, if You will You can”;

The Banker cashed this little note,

And healed the sickly man.

We read of one young man, indeed,

Whose riches did abound;

But in this Banker’s book of grace

This man was never found.

But see the wretched,

dying thief Hang by the Banker’s side;

He cried, “Dear Lord, remember me”;

He got his cash and died.

Reverand Lachlan Mackenzie