Wasted Years    

I looked upon a farm one day, that once I used to own;
The barn had fallen to the ground, the fields were overgrown.
The house in which my children grew, where we had lived for years,
I turned to see it broken down, and brushed aside the tears.
I looked upon my soul one day, to find it, too, had grown
With thorns and thistles everywhere, the seeds neglect had sown.
The years had passed while I had cared for things of lesser worth;
Heaven’s treasures I’d let go, while minding things of earth.
To Christ I turned with bitter tears and cried, “O Lord, forgive!
“So little time is left for Thee, not many years to live.”
The wasted years forever gone, the days I can’t recall;
If I could live those days again, I’d make Him Lord of all