Missionary Work

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David C. Cain

Today I went from house to house
I knocked at every door,
In answer to my summons came
The rich as well as poor.

For each I had a message,
Which I hoped they would receive.
It was the pure and holy Gospel,
God forbid that I deceive.

Says one, I've heard about you,
That's all I need to know;
You waste your time, I'm busy,
There's the gate, you'd better go.

Says another, all are equal—
There are many roads to heaven,
And I am quite content to know
My church is one of seven.

While number three with candor says,
Yours may be good and true,
But I've been saved these many years,
I've nothing more to do.

Too bad, young man, says number four,
You're on the devil's way,
He'll get you sure as shootin';
You keep not the seventh day.

Says number five: don't talk to me,
My seat in heaven's reserved,
For I've been born again —
You know, with manna I'll be served.

But oh! What joy when number six
With open smiling face,
Fling wide the door,
Come in my friend, we'll gladly hear your case.

And so I plant the gospel seed as humbly as I can,
I tell them of our Prophets, of the Great and Glorious plan.
And oh what joy is mine to know that God has chosen me
To bear His name and teach His words — oh may I worthy be.

And so throughout the day I go
Sometimes a bit dismayed —
But, at the end, how thankful for
The friends that I have made.

Now those who turn me from their door
And would not try to learn
May I forgive; our God is just,
He'll pay just what we earn.

And when at night
I bow my head, in gratitude I pray
That the love of God and fellow man
Will ever with me stay.