Though In The Earthly Church Below

Though in the earthly church below
The wheat and tares together grow,
Jesus ere long will weed the crop,
And pluck the tares in anger up.

Will it relieve their horrors there,
To recollect their stations here?
How much they heard, how much they knew,
How long among the wheat they grew?

Oh! this will aggravate their case!
They perish under means of grace:
To them the word of life and faith
Became an instrument of death.

We seem alike when thus we meet,–
Strangers might think we all were wheat;
But to the Lord’s all-searching eyes,
Each heart appears without disguise.

But tho’ they grow so tall and strong,
His plan will not require them long;
In harvest when he saves his own,
The tares shall into hell be thrown.