They played the fool as many do,
They made a god of gold;
Their names were blotted out, we're told,
From heaven's record roll.
Sometimes the record which we keep,
Is not like heaven's Book;
For oft a man's name may appear,
Who is naught but a crook.
God's record is the one that counts,
For only those we're told;
Can enter through the pearly gates,
Whose names are on His roll.
God is the same, He changeth not,
Our names cannot appear;
Upon His Book if we endulge,
In sin while we are here.
Unto a woman deep in sin,
A message was conveighed;
Yea, "Go and sin no more," said He,
That is the only way;
That you and I can be secure,
Can know beyond a doubt;
Our names are written on God's Book,
And are not blotted out.
~ J. J. Davis ~
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