When the great plants of our cities
Have turned out their last finished work
When our merchants have sold their last yard of silk
And dismissed their last tired clerk
When our banks have raked in their last dollar
And have paid the dividends
When the Judge of earth says, "closed for the night"
And asks for a balance -- what then?

When the choir has sung its last anthem
And the preacher has made his last prayer
When the people have heard their last sermon
And the sound has died on the air
When the Bible lies closed on the altar
And the pews are all empty of men
And each one stands facing his record
And the great book is open -- what then?

When the actors have played their last drama
And the mimic has made his last fun
When the film has flashed its last picture
And the billboard has displayed its last run
When the crowd seeking pleasure has vanished
And gone out in the darkness again
And all of our lives flash before us
And we stand before Him -- what then?
When the bugle's call sinks into silence
And the long marching column stands still
When the captain repeats his last orders
And they've captured the last fort and hill
And the flag has been hauled from the masthead
And the wounded afield checked in
And a world that has rejected its Saviour
Is asked for a reason -- what then?