O who like thee, so calm, so bright,Lord Jesus Christ, thou Light of light;O who like thee did ever goSo patient through a world of woe?O who like thee so humbly boreThe scorn, the scoffs of men, before;So meek, so lowly, yet so high,So glorious in humility?Through all thy lifelong weary years,A Man of sorrows and of tears,The cross, where all our sins were laid,Upon thy bending shoulders weighed;And death, that sets the prisoner free,Was pang and scoff and scorn to thee;Yet love through all thy torture glowed,And mercy with thy life-blood flowed.O wondrous Lord, our souls would beStill more and more conformed to thee!Would lose the pride, the taint of sin,That burns these fevered veins within?And learn of thee, the lowly One,And, like thee, all our journey run,Above the world, and all its mirth,Yet weeping still with weeping earth.Be with us as we onward go;Illumine all our way of woe;And grant us ever on the roadTo trace the footsteps of our God;That when thou shalt appear, arrayedIn light, to judge the quick and dead,We may to life immortal soarThrough thee, who livest evermore.—Arthur Cleveland Coxe.
O who like thee, so calm, so bright,Lord Jesus Christ, thou Light of light;O who like thee did ever goSo patient through a world of woe?O who like thee so humbly boreThe scorn, the scoffs of men, before;So meek, so lowly, yet so high,So glorious in humility?
O who like thee, so calm, so bright,
Lord Jesus Christ, thou Light of light;
O who like thee did ever go
So patient through a world of woe?
O who like thee so humbly bore
The scorn, the scoffs of men, before;
So meek, so lowly, yet so high,
So glorious in humility?
Through all thy lifelong weary years,A Man of sorrows and of tears,The cross, where all our sins were laid,Upon thy bending shoulders weighed;And death, that sets the prisoner free,Was pang and scoff and scorn to thee;Yet love through all thy torture glowed,And mercy with thy life-blood flowed.
Through all thy lifelong weary years,
A Man of sorrows and of tears,
The cross, where all our sins were laid,
Upon thy bending shoulders weighed;
And death, that sets the prisoner free,
Was pang and scoff and scorn to thee;
Yet love through all thy torture glowed,
And mercy with thy life-blood flowed.
O wondrous Lord, our souls would beStill more and more conformed to thee!Would lose the pride, the taint of sin,That burns these fevered veins within?And learn of thee, the lowly One,And, like thee, all our journey run,Above the world, and all its mirth,Yet weeping still with weeping earth.
O wondrous Lord, our souls would be
Still more and more conformed to thee!
Would lose the pride, the taint of sin,
That burns these fevered veins within?
And learn of thee, the lowly One,
And, like thee, all our journey run,
Above the world, and all its mirth,
Yet weeping still with weeping earth.
Be with us as we onward go;Illumine all our way of woe;And grant us ever on the roadTo trace the footsteps of our God;That when thou shalt appear, arrayedIn light, to judge the quick and dead,We may to life immortal soarThrough thee, who livest evermore.
Be with us as we onward go;
Illumine all our way of woe;
And grant us ever on the road
To trace the footsteps of our God;
That when thou shalt appear, arrayed
In light, to judge the quick and dead,
We may to life immortal soar
Through thee, who livest evermore.
—Arthur Cleveland Coxe.
—Arthur Cleveland Coxe.
———
It passeth knowledge, that dear love of thine,My Jesus! Saviour! Yet this soul of mineWould of that love in all its depth and length,Its height and breadth and everlasting strength,Know more and more.It passeth telling, that dear love of thine,My Jesus! Saviour! yet these lips of mineWould fain proclaim to sinners far and nearA love which can remove all guilty fear,And love beget.It passeth praises, that dear love of thine,My Jesus! Saviour! yet this heart of mineWould sing a love so rich, so full, so free,Which brought an undone sinner, such as me,Right home to God.But ah! I cannot tell, or sing, or know,The fulness of that love whilst here below,Yet my poor vessel I may freely bring;O thou who art of love the living spring,My vessel fill.Iaman empty vessel! scarce one thoughtOr look of love to thee I've ever brought;Yet, I may come and come again to theeWith this—the contrite sinner's truthful plea—"Thou lovest me!"Oh!fillme, Jesus! Saviour! with thy love!My woes but drive me to the fount above:Thither may I in childlike faith draw nigh,And never to another fountain flyBut unto thee!And when, my Jesus, thy dear face I see,When at that lofty throne I bend the knee,Then of thy love—in all its breadth and length,Its height and depth, and everlasting strength—My soul shall sing.—Mary Shekelnot.
It passeth knowledge, that dear love of thine,My Jesus! Saviour! Yet this soul of mineWould of that love in all its depth and length,Its height and breadth and everlasting strength,Know more and more.
It passeth knowledge, that dear love of thine,
My Jesus! Saviour! Yet this soul of mine
Would of that love in all its depth and length,
Its height and breadth and everlasting strength,
Know more and more.
It passeth telling, that dear love of thine,My Jesus! Saviour! yet these lips of mineWould fain proclaim to sinners far and nearA love which can remove all guilty fear,And love beget.
It passeth telling, that dear love of thine,
My Jesus! Saviour! yet these lips of mine
Would fain proclaim to sinners far and near
A love which can remove all guilty fear,
And love beget.
It passeth praises, that dear love of thine,My Jesus! Saviour! yet this heart of mineWould sing a love so rich, so full, so free,Which brought an undone sinner, such as me,Right home to God.
It passeth praises, that dear love of thine,
My Jesus! Saviour! yet this heart of mine
Would sing a love so rich, so full, so free,
Which brought an undone sinner, such as me,
Right home to God.
But ah! I cannot tell, or sing, or know,The fulness of that love whilst here below,Yet my poor vessel I may freely bring;O thou who art of love the living spring,My vessel fill.
But ah! I cannot tell, or sing, or know,
The fulness of that love whilst here below,
Yet my poor vessel I may freely bring;
O thou who art of love the living spring,
My vessel fill.
Iaman empty vessel! scarce one thoughtOr look of love to thee I've ever brought;Yet, I may come and come again to theeWith this—the contrite sinner's truthful plea—"Thou lovest me!"
Iaman empty vessel! scarce one thought
Or look of love to thee I've ever brought;
Yet, I may come and come again to thee
With this—the contrite sinner's truthful plea—
"Thou lovest me!"
Oh!fillme, Jesus! Saviour! with thy love!My woes but drive me to the fount above:Thither may I in childlike faith draw nigh,And never to another fountain flyBut unto thee!
Oh!fillme, Jesus! Saviour! with thy love!
My woes but drive me to the fount above:
Thither may I in childlike faith draw nigh,
And never to another fountain fly
But unto thee!
And when, my Jesus, thy dear face I see,When at that lofty throne I bend the knee,Then of thy love—in all its breadth and length,Its height and depth, and everlasting strength—My soul shall sing.
And when, my Jesus, thy dear face I see,
When at that lofty throne I bend the knee,
Then of thy love—in all its breadth and length,
Its height and depth, and everlasting strength—
My soul shall sing.
—Mary Shekelnot.
—Mary Shekelnot.
———
I would see Jesus. As I muse, and, thinking,Grow amazed—bewildered with a strange delight,My faith is roused, my spirit seemeth drinkingA foretaste of that ever-longed-for sight.I know that Ishallsee him; in that hourWhen he from fleshly bonds release doth give,Earth's mists dispersing at his word of power,Then shall I look upon my God and live!O blessed hope! O glorious aspiration!A little while and I the Christ shall see!A patient waiting for the full salvation—Then shall I know my Lord as he knows me.
I would see Jesus. As I muse, and, thinking,Grow amazed—bewildered with a strange delight,My faith is roused, my spirit seemeth drinkingA foretaste of that ever-longed-for sight.
I would see Jesus. As I muse, and, thinking,
Grow amazed—bewildered with a strange delight,
My faith is roused, my spirit seemeth drinking
A foretaste of that ever-longed-for sight.
I know that Ishallsee him; in that hourWhen he from fleshly bonds release doth give,Earth's mists dispersing at his word of power,Then shall I look upon my God and live!
I know that Ishallsee him; in that hour
When he from fleshly bonds release doth give,
Earth's mists dispersing at his word of power,
Then shall I look upon my God and live!
O blessed hope! O glorious aspiration!A little while and I the Christ shall see!A patient waiting for the full salvation—Then shall I know my Lord as he knows me.
O blessed hope! O glorious aspiration!
A little while and I the Christ shall see!
A patient waiting for the full salvation—
Then shall I know my Lord as he knows me.
———
I have seen the face of Jesus:Tell me not of aught beside.I have heard the voice of Jesus:All my soul is satisfied.
I have seen the face of Jesus:Tell me not of aught beside.I have heard the voice of Jesus:All my soul is satisfied.
I have seen the face of Jesus:
Tell me not of aught beside.
I have heard the voice of Jesus:
All my soul is satisfied.
———
She brought her box of alabaster;The precious spikenard filled the roomWith honor worthy of the Master,A costly, rare, and rich perfume.Her tears for sin fell hot and thicklyOn his dear feet, outstretched and bare;Unconscious how, she wiped them quicklyWith the long ringlets of her hair.And richly fall those raven tressesAdown her cheek, like willow leaves,As stooping still, with fond caresses,She plies her task of love, and grieves.Oh may we thus, like loving Mary,Ever our choicest offerings bring,Nor grudging of our toil, nor charyOf costly service to our King.Methinks I hear from Christian lowlySome hallowed voice at evening rise,Or quiet morn, or in the holyUnclouded calm of Sabbath skies;I bring my box of alabaster,Of earthly loves I break the shrine,And pour affections, purer, vaster,On that dear head, those feet of thine.The joys I prized, the hopes I cherished,The fairest flowers my fancy wove,Behold my fondest idols perished,Receive the incense of my love!What though the scornful world, deriding,Such waste of love, of service, fears?Still let me pour, through taunt and chiding,The rich libation of my tears.I bring my box of alabaster;Accepted let the offering rise!So grateful tears shall flow the faster,In founts of gladness from mine eyes!—C. L. Ford.
She brought her box of alabaster;The precious spikenard filled the roomWith honor worthy of the Master,A costly, rare, and rich perfume.
She brought her box of alabaster;
The precious spikenard filled the room
With honor worthy of the Master,
A costly, rare, and rich perfume.
Her tears for sin fell hot and thicklyOn his dear feet, outstretched and bare;Unconscious how, she wiped them quicklyWith the long ringlets of her hair.
Her tears for sin fell hot and thickly
On his dear feet, outstretched and bare;
Unconscious how, she wiped them quickly
With the long ringlets of her hair.
And richly fall those raven tressesAdown her cheek, like willow leaves,As stooping still, with fond caresses,She plies her task of love, and grieves.
And richly fall those raven tresses
Adown her cheek, like willow leaves,
As stooping still, with fond caresses,
She plies her task of love, and grieves.
Oh may we thus, like loving Mary,Ever our choicest offerings bring,Nor grudging of our toil, nor charyOf costly service to our King.
Oh may we thus, like loving Mary,
Ever our choicest offerings bring,
Nor grudging of our toil, nor chary
Of costly service to our King.
Methinks I hear from Christian lowlySome hallowed voice at evening rise,Or quiet morn, or in the holyUnclouded calm of Sabbath skies;
Methinks I hear from Christian lowly
Some hallowed voice at evening rise,
Or quiet morn, or in the holy
Unclouded calm of Sabbath skies;
I bring my box of alabaster,Of earthly loves I break the shrine,And pour affections, purer, vaster,On that dear head, those feet of thine.
I bring my box of alabaster,
Of earthly loves I break the shrine,
And pour affections, purer, vaster,
On that dear head, those feet of thine.
The joys I prized, the hopes I cherished,The fairest flowers my fancy wove,Behold my fondest idols perished,Receive the incense of my love!
The joys I prized, the hopes I cherished,
The fairest flowers my fancy wove,
Behold my fondest idols perished,
Receive the incense of my love!
What though the scornful world, deriding,Such waste of love, of service, fears?Still let me pour, through taunt and chiding,The rich libation of my tears.
What though the scornful world, deriding,
Such waste of love, of service, fears?
Still let me pour, through taunt and chiding,
The rich libation of my tears.
I bring my box of alabaster;Accepted let the offering rise!So grateful tears shall flow the faster,In founts of gladness from mine eyes!
I bring my box of alabaster;
Accepted let the offering rise!
So grateful tears shall flow the faster,
In founts of gladness from mine eyes!
—C. L. Ford.
—C. L. Ford.
———
Not I but Christ be honored, loved, exalted,Not I but Christ be seen, be known, be heard,Not I but Christ in every look and action,Not I but Christ in every thought and word.
Not I but Christ be honored, loved, exalted,Not I but Christ be seen, be known, be heard,Not I but Christ in every look and action,Not I but Christ in every thought and word.
Not I but Christ be honored, loved, exalted,
Not I but Christ be seen, be known, be heard,
Not I but Christ in every look and action,
Not I but Christ in every thought and word.
———
Jesus, I love thee, not becauseI hope for heaven thereby,Nor yet because, if I love not,I must forever die.I love thee, Saviour dear, and stillI ever will love thee,Solely because my God, thou art,Who first hast lovèd me.For me to lowest depth of woeThou didst thyself abase;For me didst bear the cross and shame,And manifold disgrace;For me didst suffer pain unknown,Blood-sweat and agony—Yea, death itself—all, all for me,Who was thine enemy.Then why, O blessed Saviour mine.Should I not love thee well?Not for the sake of winning heavenNor of escaping hell.Not with the hope of gaining aught,Nor seeking a reward;But freely, fully, as thyselfHast lovèd me, O Lord!Even so I love thee, and will love,And in thy praise will sing,Solely because thou art my GodAnd my eternal king.—Francis Xavier.
Jesus, I love thee, not becauseI hope for heaven thereby,Nor yet because, if I love not,I must forever die.
Jesus, I love thee, not because
I hope for heaven thereby,
Nor yet because, if I love not,
I must forever die.
I love thee, Saviour dear, and stillI ever will love thee,Solely because my God, thou art,Who first hast lovèd me.
I love thee, Saviour dear, and still
I ever will love thee,
Solely because my God, thou art,
Who first hast lovèd me.
For me to lowest depth of woeThou didst thyself abase;For me didst bear the cross and shame,And manifold disgrace;
For me to lowest depth of woe
Thou didst thyself abase;
For me didst bear the cross and shame,
And manifold disgrace;
For me didst suffer pain unknown,Blood-sweat and agony—Yea, death itself—all, all for me,Who was thine enemy.
For me didst suffer pain unknown,
Blood-sweat and agony—
Yea, death itself—all, all for me,
Who was thine enemy.
Then why, O blessed Saviour mine.Should I not love thee well?Not for the sake of winning heavenNor of escaping hell.
Then why, O blessed Saviour mine.
Should I not love thee well?
Not for the sake of winning heaven
Nor of escaping hell.
Not with the hope of gaining aught,Nor seeking a reward;But freely, fully, as thyselfHast lovèd me, O Lord!
Not with the hope of gaining aught,
Nor seeking a reward;
But freely, fully, as thyself
Hast lovèd me, O Lord!
Even so I love thee, and will love,And in thy praise will sing,Solely because thou art my GodAnd my eternal king.
Even so I love thee, and will love,
And in thy praise will sing,
Solely because thou art my God
And my eternal king.
—Francis Xavier.
—Francis Xavier.
———
I've found a joy in sorrow,A secret balm for pain,A beautiful to-morrowOf sunshine after rain;I've found a branch of healingNear every bitter spring,A whispered promise stealingO'er every broken string.I've found a glad hosannaFor every woe and wail,A handful of sweet mannaWhen grapes of Eschol fail;I've found a Rock of AgesWhen desert wells were dry;And, after weary stages,I've found an Elim nigh—An Elim with its coolness,Its fountains, and its shade;A blessing in its fullnessWhen buds of promise fade;O'er tears of soft contritionI've seen a rainbow light;A glory and fruitionSo near!—yet out of sight.My Saviour, thee possessing,I have the joy, the balm.The healing and the blessing.The sunshine and the psalm;The promise for the fearful,The Elim for the faint,The rainbow for the tearful,The glory for the saint!
I've found a joy in sorrow,A secret balm for pain,A beautiful to-morrowOf sunshine after rain;I've found a branch of healingNear every bitter spring,A whispered promise stealingO'er every broken string.
I've found a joy in sorrow,
A secret balm for pain,
A beautiful to-morrow
Of sunshine after rain;
I've found a branch of healing
Near every bitter spring,
A whispered promise stealing
O'er every broken string.
I've found a glad hosannaFor every woe and wail,A handful of sweet mannaWhen grapes of Eschol fail;I've found a Rock of AgesWhen desert wells were dry;And, after weary stages,I've found an Elim nigh—
I've found a glad hosanna
For every woe and wail,
A handful of sweet manna
When grapes of Eschol fail;
I've found a Rock of Ages
When desert wells were dry;
And, after weary stages,
I've found an Elim nigh—
An Elim with its coolness,Its fountains, and its shade;A blessing in its fullnessWhen buds of promise fade;O'er tears of soft contritionI've seen a rainbow light;A glory and fruitionSo near!—yet out of sight.
An Elim with its coolness,
Its fountains, and its shade;
A blessing in its fullness
When buds of promise fade;
O'er tears of soft contrition
I've seen a rainbow light;
A glory and fruition
So near!—yet out of sight.
My Saviour, thee possessing,I have the joy, the balm.The healing and the blessing.The sunshine and the psalm;The promise for the fearful,The Elim for the faint,The rainbow for the tearful,The glory for the saint!
My Saviour, thee possessing,
I have the joy, the balm.
The healing and the blessing.
The sunshine and the psalm;
The promise for the fearful,
The Elim for the faint,
The rainbow for the tearful,
The glory for the saint!
———
What grace, O Lord, and beauty shoneAround thy steps below!What patient love was seen in allThy life and death of woe!For ever on thy burdened heartA weight of sorrow hung;Yet no ungentle, murmuring wordEscaped thy silent tongue.Thy foes might hate, despise, revile,Thy friends unfaithful prove;Unwearied in forgiveness still,Thy heart could only love.O give us hearts to love like thee,Like thee, O Lord, to grieveFar more for others' sins than allThe wrongs that we receive.One with thyself, may every eyeIn us, thy brethren, seeThat gentleness and grace that springFrom union, Lord, with thee.—Edward Denny.
What grace, O Lord, and beauty shoneAround thy steps below!What patient love was seen in allThy life and death of woe!
What grace, O Lord, and beauty shone
Around thy steps below!
What patient love was seen in all
Thy life and death of woe!
For ever on thy burdened heartA weight of sorrow hung;Yet no ungentle, murmuring wordEscaped thy silent tongue.
For ever on thy burdened heart
A weight of sorrow hung;
Yet no ungentle, murmuring word
Escaped thy silent tongue.
Thy foes might hate, despise, revile,Thy friends unfaithful prove;Unwearied in forgiveness still,Thy heart could only love.
Thy foes might hate, despise, revile,
Thy friends unfaithful prove;
Unwearied in forgiveness still,
Thy heart could only love.
O give us hearts to love like thee,Like thee, O Lord, to grieveFar more for others' sins than allThe wrongs that we receive.
O give us hearts to love like thee,
Like thee, O Lord, to grieve
Far more for others' sins than all
The wrongs that we receive.
One with thyself, may every eyeIn us, thy brethren, seeThat gentleness and grace that springFrom union, Lord, with thee.
One with thyself, may every eye
In us, thy brethren, see
That gentleness and grace that spring
From union, Lord, with thee.
—Edward Denny.
—Edward Denny.
———
True wisdom is in leaningOn Jesus Christ, our Lord;True wisdom is in trustingHis own life-giving word;True wisdom is in livingNear Jesus every day;True wisdom is in walkingWhere he shall lead the way.
True wisdom is in leaningOn Jesus Christ, our Lord;True wisdom is in trustingHis own life-giving word;True wisdom is in livingNear Jesus every day;True wisdom is in walkingWhere he shall lead the way.
True wisdom is in leaning
On Jesus Christ, our Lord;
True wisdom is in trusting
His own life-giving word;
True wisdom is in living
Near Jesus every day;
True wisdom is in walking
Where he shall lead the way.
———
Tell me about the Master!I am weary and worn to-night,The day lies behind me in shadow,And only the evening is light;Light with a radiant gloryThat lingers about the west;My poor heart is aweary, aweary,And longs, like a child, for rest.Tell me about the Master!Of the hills he in loneliness trod,When the tears and the blood of his anguishDropped down on Judea's sod.For to me life's numerous milestonesBut a sorrowful journey mark;Rough lies the hill country before me,The mountains behind me are dark.Tell me about the Master!Of the wrong he freely forgave:Of his love and tender compassion,Of his love that is mighty to save;For my heart is aweary, awearyOf the woes and temptations of life,Of the error that stalks in the noonday,Of falsehood and malice and strife.Yet I know that, whatever of sorrowOr pain or temptation befall,The infinite Master has suffered,And knoweth and pitieth all.So tell me the sweet old story,That falls on each wound like a balm,And my heart that was bruised and brokenShall grow patient and strong and calm.
Tell me about the Master!I am weary and worn to-night,The day lies behind me in shadow,And only the evening is light;Light with a radiant gloryThat lingers about the west;My poor heart is aweary, aweary,And longs, like a child, for rest.
Tell me about the Master!
I am weary and worn to-night,
The day lies behind me in shadow,
And only the evening is light;
Light with a radiant glory
That lingers about the west;
My poor heart is aweary, aweary,
And longs, like a child, for rest.
Tell me about the Master!Of the hills he in loneliness trod,When the tears and the blood of his anguishDropped down on Judea's sod.For to me life's numerous milestonesBut a sorrowful journey mark;Rough lies the hill country before me,The mountains behind me are dark.
Tell me about the Master!
Of the hills he in loneliness trod,
When the tears and the blood of his anguish
Dropped down on Judea's sod.
For to me life's numerous milestones
But a sorrowful journey mark;
Rough lies the hill country before me,
The mountains behind me are dark.
Tell me about the Master!Of the wrong he freely forgave:Of his love and tender compassion,Of his love that is mighty to save;For my heart is aweary, awearyOf the woes and temptations of life,Of the error that stalks in the noonday,Of falsehood and malice and strife.
Tell me about the Master!
Of the wrong he freely forgave:
Of his love and tender compassion,
Of his love that is mighty to save;
For my heart is aweary, aweary
Of the woes and temptations of life,
Of the error that stalks in the noonday,
Of falsehood and malice and strife.
Yet I know that, whatever of sorrowOr pain or temptation befall,The infinite Master has suffered,And knoweth and pitieth all.So tell me the sweet old story,That falls on each wound like a balm,And my heart that was bruised and brokenShall grow patient and strong and calm.
Yet I know that, whatever of sorrow
Or pain or temptation befall,
The infinite Master has suffered,
And knoweth and pitieth all.
So tell me the sweet old story,
That falls on each wound like a balm,
And my heart that was bruised and broken
Shall grow patient and strong and calm.
———
Jesu is in my heart, his sacred nameIs deeply carved there; but the other weekA great affliction broke the little frame,E'en all to pieces; which I went to seek;And first I found the corner where was J,After where ES, and next where U was graved.When I had got these parcels, instantlyI sat me down to spell them, and perceivedThat to my broken heart he was I EASE YOU,And to my whole is JESU.—George Herbert.
Jesu is in my heart, his sacred nameIs deeply carved there; but the other weekA great affliction broke the little frame,E'en all to pieces; which I went to seek;And first I found the corner where was J,After where ES, and next where U was graved.When I had got these parcels, instantlyI sat me down to spell them, and perceivedThat to my broken heart he was I EASE YOU,And to my whole is JESU.
Jesu is in my heart, his sacred name
Is deeply carved there; but the other week
A great affliction broke the little frame,
E'en all to pieces; which I went to seek;
And first I found the corner where was J,
After where ES, and next where U was graved.
When I had got these parcels, instantly
I sat me down to spell them, and perceived
That to my broken heart he was I EASE YOU,
And to my whole is JESU.
—George Herbert.
—George Herbert.
———
I am thine own, O Christ—Henceforth entirely thine;And life from this glad hour,New life, is mine!No earthly joy shall lureMy quiet soul from thee;This deep delight, so pure,Is heaven to me.My little song of praiseIn sweet content I sing;To thee the note I raise,My King, my King!I cannot tell the artBy which such bliss is given;I know thou hast my heart,And I—have heaven!O peace! O holy rest!O balmy breath of love!O heart divinest, best,Thy depth I prove.I ask this gift of thee—A life all lily fair,And fragrant as the gardens beWhere seraphs are.—Helen Bradley.
I am thine own, O Christ—Henceforth entirely thine;And life from this glad hour,New life, is mine!
I am thine own, O Christ—
Henceforth entirely thine;
And life from this glad hour,
New life, is mine!
No earthly joy shall lureMy quiet soul from thee;This deep delight, so pure,Is heaven to me.
No earthly joy shall lure
My quiet soul from thee;
This deep delight, so pure,
Is heaven to me.
My little song of praiseIn sweet content I sing;To thee the note I raise,My King, my King!
My little song of praise
In sweet content I sing;
To thee the note I raise,
My King, my King!
I cannot tell the artBy which such bliss is given;I know thou hast my heart,And I—have heaven!
I cannot tell the art
By which such bliss is given;
I know thou hast my heart,
And I—have heaven!
O peace! O holy rest!O balmy breath of love!O heart divinest, best,Thy depth I prove.
O peace! O holy rest!
O balmy breath of love!
O heart divinest, best,
Thy depth I prove.
I ask this gift of thee—A life all lily fair,And fragrant as the gardens beWhere seraphs are.
I ask this gift of thee—
A life all lily fair,
And fragrant as the gardens be
Where seraphs are.
—Helen Bradley.
—Helen Bradley.
———
O Jesus! Jesus! dearest Lord!Forgive me if I sayFor very love thy sacred nameA thousand times a day.I love thee so, I know not howMy transports to control;Thy love is like a burning fireWithin my very soul.O wonderful! that thou shouldst letSo vile a heart as mineLove thee with such a love as this,And make so free with thine.The craft of this wise world of oursPoor wisdom seems to me;Ah! dearest Jesus! I have grownChildish with love of thee!For thou to me art all in all,My honor and my wealth,My heart's desire, my body's strength,My soul's eternal health.Burn, burn, O Love! within my heartBurn fiercely night and day,'Till all the dross of earthly lovesIs burned, and burned away.O light in darkness, joy in grief,O heaven begun on earth!Jesus! my love! my treasure! whoCan tell what thou art worth?O Jesus! Jesus! sweetest Lord!What art thou not to me?Each hour brings joys before unknown,Each day new liberty!What limit is there to thee, love?Thy flight where wilt thou stay?On! on! our Lord is sweeter farTo-day than yesterday.O love of Jesus! blessed love!So will it ever be;Time cannot hold thy wondrous growth,No, nor eternity.—Frederick William Faber.
O Jesus! Jesus! dearest Lord!Forgive me if I sayFor very love thy sacred nameA thousand times a day.
O Jesus! Jesus! dearest Lord!
Forgive me if I say
For very love thy sacred name
A thousand times a day.
I love thee so, I know not howMy transports to control;Thy love is like a burning fireWithin my very soul.
I love thee so, I know not how
My transports to control;
Thy love is like a burning fire
Within my very soul.
O wonderful! that thou shouldst letSo vile a heart as mineLove thee with such a love as this,And make so free with thine.
O wonderful! that thou shouldst let
So vile a heart as mine
Love thee with such a love as this,
And make so free with thine.
The craft of this wise world of oursPoor wisdom seems to me;Ah! dearest Jesus! I have grownChildish with love of thee!
The craft of this wise world of ours
Poor wisdom seems to me;
Ah! dearest Jesus! I have grown
Childish with love of thee!
For thou to me art all in all,My honor and my wealth,My heart's desire, my body's strength,My soul's eternal health.
For thou to me art all in all,
My honor and my wealth,
My heart's desire, my body's strength,
My soul's eternal health.
Burn, burn, O Love! within my heartBurn fiercely night and day,'Till all the dross of earthly lovesIs burned, and burned away.
Burn, burn, O Love! within my heart
Burn fiercely night and day,
'Till all the dross of earthly loves
Is burned, and burned away.
O light in darkness, joy in grief,O heaven begun on earth!Jesus! my love! my treasure! whoCan tell what thou art worth?
O light in darkness, joy in grief,
O heaven begun on earth!
Jesus! my love! my treasure! who
Can tell what thou art worth?
O Jesus! Jesus! sweetest Lord!What art thou not to me?Each hour brings joys before unknown,Each day new liberty!
O Jesus! Jesus! sweetest Lord!
What art thou not to me?
Each hour brings joys before unknown,
Each day new liberty!
What limit is there to thee, love?Thy flight where wilt thou stay?On! on! our Lord is sweeter farTo-day than yesterday.
What limit is there to thee, love?
Thy flight where wilt thou stay?
On! on! our Lord is sweeter far
To-day than yesterday.
O love of Jesus! blessed love!So will it ever be;Time cannot hold thy wondrous growth,No, nor eternity.
O love of Jesus! blessed love!
So will it ever be;
Time cannot hold thy wondrous growth,
No, nor eternity.
—Frederick William Faber.
—Frederick William Faber.
———
As on a window late I cast mine eye,I saw a vine drop grapes with J and CAnneal'd on every bunch. One standing byAsk'd what it meant. I (who am never lothTo spend my judgment) said it seem'd to meTo be the body and the letters bothOf Joy and Charity. Sir, you have not miss'd,The man replied; it figures JESUS CHRIST.—George Herbert.
As on a window late I cast mine eye,I saw a vine drop grapes with J and CAnneal'd on every bunch. One standing byAsk'd what it meant. I (who am never lothTo spend my judgment) said it seem'd to meTo be the body and the letters bothOf Joy and Charity. Sir, you have not miss'd,The man replied; it figures JESUS CHRIST.
As on a window late I cast mine eye,
I saw a vine drop grapes with J and C
Anneal'd on every bunch. One standing by
Ask'd what it meant. I (who am never loth
To spend my judgment) said it seem'd to me
To be the body and the letters both
Of Joy and Charity. Sir, you have not miss'd,
The man replied; it figures JESUS CHRIST.
—George Herbert.
—George Herbert.
———
Why not leave them all with Jesus—All thy cares,All the things that fret thee daily,Earth's affairs?Pour out all thy sin and longing;He has feltNeed of human love as thou hast,And has kneltAt his Father's feet, imploring,For the day,Strength to guard against temptationBy the way.Why not leave them all with Jesus—On his breastFind a balm for all earth-suffering,Peace and rest?Ah! he knows that thou hast strivenTo walk right;Longs to make the thorny pathwayClear and bright.See, he bathes thy feet, all bleeding,With his tears!Give to him thyself, thy burden,And thy fears.
Why not leave them all with Jesus—All thy cares,All the things that fret thee daily,Earth's affairs?Pour out all thy sin and longing;He has feltNeed of human love as thou hast,And has kneltAt his Father's feet, imploring,For the day,Strength to guard against temptationBy the way.
Why not leave them all with Jesus—
All thy cares,
All the things that fret thee daily,
Earth's affairs?
Pour out all thy sin and longing;
He has felt
Need of human love as thou hast,
And has knelt
At his Father's feet, imploring,
For the day,
Strength to guard against temptation
By the way.
Why not leave them all with Jesus—On his breastFind a balm for all earth-suffering,Peace and rest?Ah! he knows that thou hast strivenTo walk right;Longs to make the thorny pathwayClear and bright.See, he bathes thy feet, all bleeding,With his tears!Give to him thyself, thy burden,And thy fears.
Why not leave them all with Jesus—
On his breast
Find a balm for all earth-suffering,
Peace and rest?
Ah! he knows that thou hast striven
To walk right;
Longs to make the thorny pathway
Clear and bright.
See, he bathes thy feet, all bleeding,
With his tears!
Give to him thyself, thy burden,
And thy fears.
———
When the storm of the mountains on Galilee fellAnd lifted its waters on high—And the faithless disciples were bound in the spellOf mysterious alarm—their terrors to quellJesus whispered, "Fear not: it is I."The storm could not bury that word in the wave,For 'twas taught through the tempest to fly;It shall reach his disciples in every clime,And his voice shall be near, in each troublous time,Saying, "Be not afraid: it is I."When the spirit is broken with sickness or sorrow,And comfort is ready to die;The darkness shall pass and, in gladness to-morrow,The wounded complete consolation shall borrowFrom his life-giving word, "It is I."When death is at hand, and the cottage of clayIs left with a tremulous sigh,The gracious forerunner is smoothing the wayFor its tenant to pass to unchangeable day,Saying, "Be not afraid: it is I."When the waters are passed, and the glories unknownBurst forth on the wondering eye,The compassionate "Lamb in the midst of the throne"Shall welcome, encourage, and comfort his own,And say, "Be not afraid: it is I."
When the storm of the mountains on Galilee fellAnd lifted its waters on high—And the faithless disciples were bound in the spellOf mysterious alarm—their terrors to quellJesus whispered, "Fear not: it is I."
When the storm of the mountains on Galilee fell
And lifted its waters on high—
And the faithless disciples were bound in the spell
Of mysterious alarm—their terrors to quell
Jesus whispered, "Fear not: it is I."
The storm could not bury that word in the wave,For 'twas taught through the tempest to fly;It shall reach his disciples in every clime,And his voice shall be near, in each troublous time,Saying, "Be not afraid: it is I."
The storm could not bury that word in the wave,
For 'twas taught through the tempest to fly;
It shall reach his disciples in every clime,
And his voice shall be near, in each troublous time,
Saying, "Be not afraid: it is I."
When the spirit is broken with sickness or sorrow,And comfort is ready to die;The darkness shall pass and, in gladness to-morrow,The wounded complete consolation shall borrowFrom his life-giving word, "It is I."
When the spirit is broken with sickness or sorrow,
And comfort is ready to die;
The darkness shall pass and, in gladness to-morrow,
The wounded complete consolation shall borrow
From his life-giving word, "It is I."
When death is at hand, and the cottage of clayIs left with a tremulous sigh,The gracious forerunner is smoothing the wayFor its tenant to pass to unchangeable day,Saying, "Be not afraid: it is I."
When death is at hand, and the cottage of clay
Is left with a tremulous sigh,
The gracious forerunner is smoothing the way
For its tenant to pass to unchangeable day,
Saying, "Be not afraid: it is I."
When the waters are passed, and the glories unknownBurst forth on the wondering eye,The compassionate "Lamb in the midst of the throne"Shall welcome, encourage, and comfort his own,And say, "Be not afraid: it is I."
When the waters are passed, and the glories unknown
Burst forth on the wondering eye,
The compassionate "Lamb in the midst of the throne"
Shall welcome, encourage, and comfort his own,
And say, "Be not afraid: it is I."
———
We would see Jesus—for the shadows lengthenAcross the little landscape of our life;We would see Jesus—our weak faith to strengthenFor the last weariness, the mortal strife.We would see Jesus—for life's hand hath restedWith its dark touch on weary heart and brow;And though our souls have many billows breastedOthers are rising in the distance now.We would see Jesus—other lights are palingWhich for long years we have rejoiced to see;The blessings of our pilgrimage are failing—We would not mourn them, for we come to thee.We would see Jesus—yet the spirit lingersRound the dear object it has loved so long,And earth from earth will scarce unclose its fingers,Our love for thee makes not this love less strong.We would see Jesus—the strong Rock-foundationWhereon our feet are set by sovereign grace;Not life or death, with all their agitation,Can thence remove us if we seek his face.We would see Jesus—sense is all too blinding,And heaven appears too dim and far away;We would see Jesus—to gain the sweet remindingThat thou hast promised our great debt to pay.We would see Jesus—that is all we're needing,Strength, joy, and willingness come with the sight;We would see Jesus—dying, risen, pleading—Then welcome day, and farewell mortal night!—Anna B. Warner.
We would see Jesus—for the shadows lengthenAcross the little landscape of our life;We would see Jesus—our weak faith to strengthenFor the last weariness, the mortal strife.
We would see Jesus—for the shadows lengthen
Across the little landscape of our life;
We would see Jesus—our weak faith to strengthen
For the last weariness, the mortal strife.
We would see Jesus—for life's hand hath restedWith its dark touch on weary heart and brow;And though our souls have many billows breastedOthers are rising in the distance now.
We would see Jesus—for life's hand hath rested
With its dark touch on weary heart and brow;
And though our souls have many billows breasted
Others are rising in the distance now.
We would see Jesus—other lights are palingWhich for long years we have rejoiced to see;The blessings of our pilgrimage are failing—We would not mourn them, for we come to thee.
We would see Jesus—other lights are paling
Which for long years we have rejoiced to see;
The blessings of our pilgrimage are failing—
We would not mourn them, for we come to thee.
We would see Jesus—yet the spirit lingersRound the dear object it has loved so long,And earth from earth will scarce unclose its fingers,Our love for thee makes not this love less strong.
We would see Jesus—yet the spirit lingers
Round the dear object it has loved so long,
And earth from earth will scarce unclose its fingers,
Our love for thee makes not this love less strong.
We would see Jesus—the strong Rock-foundationWhereon our feet are set by sovereign grace;Not life or death, with all their agitation,Can thence remove us if we seek his face.
We would see Jesus—the strong Rock-foundation
Whereon our feet are set by sovereign grace;
Not life or death, with all their agitation,
Can thence remove us if we seek his face.
We would see Jesus—sense is all too blinding,And heaven appears too dim and far away;We would see Jesus—to gain the sweet remindingThat thou hast promised our great debt to pay.
We would see Jesus—sense is all too blinding,
And heaven appears too dim and far away;
We would see Jesus—to gain the sweet reminding
That thou hast promised our great debt to pay.
We would see Jesus—that is all we're needing,Strength, joy, and willingness come with the sight;We would see Jesus—dying, risen, pleading—Then welcome day, and farewell mortal night!
We would see Jesus—that is all we're needing,
Strength, joy, and willingness come with the sight;
We would see Jesus—dying, risen, pleading—
Then welcome day, and farewell mortal night!
—Anna B. Warner.
—Anna B. Warner.
———
To thee, O dear, dear Saviour!My spirit turns for rest;My peace is in thy favor,My pillow on thy breast;Though all the world deceive me,I know that I am thine,And thou wilt never leave me,O blessed Saviour mine!In thee my trust abideth,On thee my hope relies,O thou whose love providethFor all beneath the skies!O thou whose mercy found me,From bondage set me free,And then forever bound meWith threefold cords to thee!My grief is in the dullnessWith which this sluggish heartDoth open to the fullnessOf all thou wouldst impart;My joy is in thy beautyOf holiness divine,My comfort in the dutyThat binds my life to thine.Alas! that I should everHave fail'd in love to thee,The only One who neverForgot or slighted me.O for a heart to love theeMore truly as I ought,And nothing place above theeIn deed, or word, or thought.O for that choicest blessingOf living in thy love,And thus on earth possessingThe peace of heaven above!O for the bliss that by itThe soul securely knows,The holy calm and quietOf faith's serene repose!—John Samuel Bewley Monsell.
To thee, O dear, dear Saviour!My spirit turns for rest;My peace is in thy favor,My pillow on thy breast;Though all the world deceive me,I know that I am thine,And thou wilt never leave me,O blessed Saviour mine!
To thee, O dear, dear Saviour!
My spirit turns for rest;
My peace is in thy favor,
My pillow on thy breast;
Though all the world deceive me,
I know that I am thine,
And thou wilt never leave me,
O blessed Saviour mine!
In thee my trust abideth,On thee my hope relies,O thou whose love providethFor all beneath the skies!O thou whose mercy found me,From bondage set me free,And then forever bound meWith threefold cords to thee!
In thee my trust abideth,
On thee my hope relies,
O thou whose love provideth
For all beneath the skies!
O thou whose mercy found me,
From bondage set me free,
And then forever bound me
With threefold cords to thee!
My grief is in the dullnessWith which this sluggish heartDoth open to the fullnessOf all thou wouldst impart;My joy is in thy beautyOf holiness divine,My comfort in the dutyThat binds my life to thine.
My grief is in the dullness
With which this sluggish heart
Doth open to the fullness
Of all thou wouldst impart;
My joy is in thy beauty
Of holiness divine,
My comfort in the duty
That binds my life to thine.
Alas! that I should everHave fail'd in love to thee,The only One who neverForgot or slighted me.O for a heart to love theeMore truly as I ought,And nothing place above theeIn deed, or word, or thought.
Alas! that I should ever
Have fail'd in love to thee,
The only One who never
Forgot or slighted me.
O for a heart to love thee
More truly as I ought,
And nothing place above thee
In deed, or word, or thought.
O for that choicest blessingOf living in thy love,And thus on earth possessingThe peace of heaven above!O for the bliss that by itThe soul securely knows,The holy calm and quietOf faith's serene repose!
O for that choicest blessing
Of living in thy love,
And thus on earth possessing
The peace of heaven above!
O for the bliss that by it
The soul securely knows,
The holy calm and quiet
Of faith's serene repose!
—John Samuel Bewley Monsell.
—John Samuel Bewley Monsell.
———
O Jesus! Friend unfailing,How dear art thou to me!Are cares and fears assailing?I find my strength in thee!Why should my feet grow wearyOf this my pilgrim way?Rough though the path, and dreary,It ends in perfect day.Naught, naught I count as treasure;Compared, O Christ, with thee!Thy sorrow without measureEarned peace and joy for me.I love to own, Lord Jesus,Thy claims o'er me and mine;Bought with thy blood most precious,Whose can I be but thine?What fills my soul with gladness?'Tis thine abounding grace!Where can I look in sadness,But, Jesus, in thy face?My all is thy providing;Thy love can ne'er grow cold;In thee, my refuge, hiding,No good wilt thou withhold.Why should I droop in sorrow?Thou'rt ever by my side:Why, trembling, dread the morrow?What ill can e'er betide?If I my cross have taken,'Tis but to follow thee;If scorned, despised, forsaken,Naught severs me from thee!Oh, worldly pomp and glory!Your charms are spread in vain!I've heard a sweeter story,I've found a truer gain!Where Christ a place prepareth,There is my loved abode;There shall I gaze on Jesus,There shall I dwell with God!For every tribulation,For every sore distress,In Christ I've full salvation,Sure help, and quiet rest.No fear of foes prevailing!I triumph, Lord, in thee!O Jesus! Friend unfailing!How dear art thou to me!
O Jesus! Friend unfailing,How dear art thou to me!Are cares and fears assailing?I find my strength in thee!Why should my feet grow wearyOf this my pilgrim way?Rough though the path, and dreary,It ends in perfect day.
O Jesus! Friend unfailing,
How dear art thou to me!
Are cares and fears assailing?
I find my strength in thee!
Why should my feet grow weary
Of this my pilgrim way?
Rough though the path, and dreary,
It ends in perfect day.
Naught, naught I count as treasure;Compared, O Christ, with thee!Thy sorrow without measureEarned peace and joy for me.I love to own, Lord Jesus,Thy claims o'er me and mine;Bought with thy blood most precious,Whose can I be but thine?
Naught, naught I count as treasure;
Compared, O Christ, with thee!
Thy sorrow without measure
Earned peace and joy for me.
I love to own, Lord Jesus,
Thy claims o'er me and mine;
Bought with thy blood most precious,
Whose can I be but thine?
What fills my soul with gladness?'Tis thine abounding grace!Where can I look in sadness,But, Jesus, in thy face?My all is thy providing;Thy love can ne'er grow cold;In thee, my refuge, hiding,No good wilt thou withhold.
What fills my soul with gladness?
'Tis thine abounding grace!
Where can I look in sadness,
But, Jesus, in thy face?
My all is thy providing;
Thy love can ne'er grow cold;
In thee, my refuge, hiding,
No good wilt thou withhold.
Why should I droop in sorrow?Thou'rt ever by my side:Why, trembling, dread the morrow?What ill can e'er betide?If I my cross have taken,'Tis but to follow thee;If scorned, despised, forsaken,Naught severs me from thee!
Why should I droop in sorrow?
Thou'rt ever by my side:
Why, trembling, dread the morrow?
What ill can e'er betide?
If I my cross have taken,
'Tis but to follow thee;
If scorned, despised, forsaken,
Naught severs me from thee!
Oh, worldly pomp and glory!Your charms are spread in vain!I've heard a sweeter story,I've found a truer gain!Where Christ a place prepareth,There is my loved abode;There shall I gaze on Jesus,There shall I dwell with God!
Oh, worldly pomp and glory!
Your charms are spread in vain!
I've heard a sweeter story,
I've found a truer gain!
Where Christ a place prepareth,
There is my loved abode;
There shall I gaze on Jesus,
There shall I dwell with God!
For every tribulation,For every sore distress,In Christ I've full salvation,Sure help, and quiet rest.No fear of foes prevailing!I triumph, Lord, in thee!O Jesus! Friend unfailing!How dear art thou to me!
For every tribulation,
For every sore distress,
In Christ I've full salvation,
Sure help, and quiet rest.
No fear of foes prevailing!
I triumph, Lord, in thee!
O Jesus! Friend unfailing!
How dear art thou to me!
———
If Jesus Christ is a man—And only a man—I sayThat of all mankind I cleave to him,And to him will I cleave alway.If Jesus Christ is a God—And the only God—I swearI will follow him through heaven and hell,The earth, the sea, the air.—Richard Watson Gilder.
If Jesus Christ is a man—And only a man—I sayThat of all mankind I cleave to him,And to him will I cleave alway.
If Jesus Christ is a man—
And only a man—I say
That of all mankind I cleave to him,
And to him will I cleave alway.
If Jesus Christ is a God—And the only God—I swearI will follow him through heaven and hell,The earth, the sea, the air.
If Jesus Christ is a God—
And the only God—I swear
I will follow him through heaven and hell,
The earth, the sea, the air.
—Richard Watson Gilder.
—Richard Watson Gilder.
———
Abide with me, O Christ; thou must not goFor life's brief day is now far down the west;In dark'ning clouds my sun is sinking low;Lord, stay and soothe thy fretted child to rest.Abide with me; ere I can fall on sleepMy throbbing head must on thy breast recline,That I may hear anew thy voice, and feelThe thrill of thy pierced hands in touch with mine.Abide with me; so then shall I have peaceThe world can never give nor take from me;Nor life nor death can that calm peace disturb,Since life and death alike are gain through thee.If life, 'tis well; for though in paths of pain,In desert place afar, I'm led aside,Yet here 'tis joy my Master's cup to share;And so I pray, O Christ, with me abide.'Tis gain if death; for in that far-off land—No longer far—no veil of flesh will dimFor me the wondrous beauty of my King,As he abides with me and I with him.Abide with me; I have toiled gladly on,A little while, in stir of care and strife;The task is laid aside at thy command,Make thou it perfect with thy perfect life.
Abide with me, O Christ; thou must not goFor life's brief day is now far down the west;In dark'ning clouds my sun is sinking low;Lord, stay and soothe thy fretted child to rest.
Abide with me, O Christ; thou must not go
For life's brief day is now far down the west;
In dark'ning clouds my sun is sinking low;
Lord, stay and soothe thy fretted child to rest.
Abide with me; ere I can fall on sleepMy throbbing head must on thy breast recline,That I may hear anew thy voice, and feelThe thrill of thy pierced hands in touch with mine.
Abide with me; ere I can fall on sleep
My throbbing head must on thy breast recline,
That I may hear anew thy voice, and feel
The thrill of thy pierced hands in touch with mine.
Abide with me; so then shall I have peaceThe world can never give nor take from me;Nor life nor death can that calm peace disturb,Since life and death alike are gain through thee.
Abide with me; so then shall I have peace
The world can never give nor take from me;
Nor life nor death can that calm peace disturb,
Since life and death alike are gain through thee.
If life, 'tis well; for though in paths of pain,In desert place afar, I'm led aside,Yet here 'tis joy my Master's cup to share;And so I pray, O Christ, with me abide.
If life, 'tis well; for though in paths of pain,
In desert place afar, I'm led aside,
Yet here 'tis joy my Master's cup to share;
And so I pray, O Christ, with me abide.
'Tis gain if death; for in that far-off land—No longer far—no veil of flesh will dimFor me the wondrous beauty of my King,As he abides with me and I with him.
'Tis gain if death; for in that far-off land—
No longer far—no veil of flesh will dim
For me the wondrous beauty of my King,
As he abides with me and I with him.
Abide with me; I have toiled gladly on,A little while, in stir of care and strife;The task is laid aside at thy command,Make thou it perfect with thy perfect life.
Abide with me; I have toiled gladly on,
A little while, in stir of care and strife;
The task is laid aside at thy command,
Make thou it perfect with thy perfect life.
———
Jesus, these eyes have never seenThat radiant form of thine;The veil of sense hangs dark betweenThy blessed face and mine.I see thee not, I hear thee not,Yet art thou oft with me;And earth hath ne'er so dear a spotAs where I meet with thee.Like some bright dream that comes unsoughtWhen slumbers o'er me roll,Thine image ever fills my thoughtAnd charms my ravished soul.Yet though I have not seen, and stillMust rest in faith alone,I love thee, dearest Lord, and will,Unseen but not unknown.When death these mortal eyes shall seal,And still this throbbing heart,The rending veil shall thee reveal,All-glorious as thou art.—Ray Palmer.
Jesus, these eyes have never seenThat radiant form of thine;The veil of sense hangs dark betweenThy blessed face and mine.
Jesus, these eyes have never seen
That radiant form of thine;
The veil of sense hangs dark between
Thy blessed face and mine.
I see thee not, I hear thee not,Yet art thou oft with me;And earth hath ne'er so dear a spotAs where I meet with thee.
I see thee not, I hear thee not,
Yet art thou oft with me;
And earth hath ne'er so dear a spot
As where I meet with thee.
Like some bright dream that comes unsoughtWhen slumbers o'er me roll,Thine image ever fills my thoughtAnd charms my ravished soul.
Like some bright dream that comes unsought
When slumbers o'er me roll,
Thine image ever fills my thought
And charms my ravished soul.
Yet though I have not seen, and stillMust rest in faith alone,I love thee, dearest Lord, and will,Unseen but not unknown.
Yet though I have not seen, and still
Must rest in faith alone,
I love thee, dearest Lord, and will,
Unseen but not unknown.
When death these mortal eyes shall seal,And still this throbbing heart,The rending veil shall thee reveal,All-glorious as thou art.
When death these mortal eyes shall seal,
And still this throbbing heart,
The rending veil shall thee reveal,
All-glorious as thou art.
—Ray Palmer.
—Ray Palmer.
———
I bring my sins to theeThe sins I cannot count,That all may cleansed beIn thy once-opened fount.I bring them, Saviour, all to thee;The burden is too great for me.My heart to thee I bring,The heart I cannot read;A faithless, wandering thing,An evil heart indeed.I bring it, Saviour, now to thee,That fixed and faithful it may beTo thee I bring my care,The care I cannot flee;Thou wilt not only share,But take it all for me.O loving Saviour, now to thee,I bring the load that wearies me.I bring my grief to thee,The grief I cannot tell;No words shall needed be,Thou knowest all so well.I bring the sorrow laid on me,O suffering Saviour! all to thee.My joys to thee I bring,The joys thy love has given,That each may be a wingTo lift me nearer heaven.I bring them, Saviour, all to thee,Who hast procured them all for me.My life I bring to thee,I would not be my own;O Saviour! let me beThine ever, thine alone!My heart, my life, my all, I bringTo thee, my Saviour and my King.
I bring my sins to theeThe sins I cannot count,That all may cleansed beIn thy once-opened fount.I bring them, Saviour, all to thee;The burden is too great for me.
I bring my sins to thee
The sins I cannot count,
That all may cleansed be
In thy once-opened fount.
I bring them, Saviour, all to thee;
The burden is too great for me.
My heart to thee I bring,The heart I cannot read;A faithless, wandering thing,An evil heart indeed.I bring it, Saviour, now to thee,That fixed and faithful it may be
My heart to thee I bring,
The heart I cannot read;
A faithless, wandering thing,
An evil heart indeed.
I bring it, Saviour, now to thee,
That fixed and faithful it may be
To thee I bring my care,The care I cannot flee;Thou wilt not only share,But take it all for me.O loving Saviour, now to thee,I bring the load that wearies me.
To thee I bring my care,
The care I cannot flee;
Thou wilt not only share,
But take it all for me.
O loving Saviour, now to thee,
I bring the load that wearies me.
I bring my grief to thee,The grief I cannot tell;No words shall needed be,Thou knowest all so well.I bring the sorrow laid on me,O suffering Saviour! all to thee.
I bring my grief to thee,
The grief I cannot tell;
No words shall needed be,
Thou knowest all so well.
I bring the sorrow laid on me,
O suffering Saviour! all to thee.
My joys to thee I bring,The joys thy love has given,That each may be a wingTo lift me nearer heaven.I bring them, Saviour, all to thee,Who hast procured them all for me.
My joys to thee I bring,
The joys thy love has given,
That each may be a wing
To lift me nearer heaven.
I bring them, Saviour, all to thee,
Who hast procured them all for me.
My life I bring to thee,I would not be my own;O Saviour! let me beThine ever, thine alone!My heart, my life, my all, I bringTo thee, my Saviour and my King.
My life I bring to thee,
I would not be my own;
O Saviour! let me be
Thine ever, thine alone!
My heart, my life, my all, I bring
To thee, my Saviour and my King.
———
We would see Jesus! we have longed to see himSince first the story of his love was told;We would that he might sojourn now among us,As once he sojourned with the Jews of old.We would see Jesus! see the infant sleeping,As on our mother's knees we, too, have slept;We would see Jesus! see him gently weeping,As we, in infancy, ourselves have wept.We would behold him, as he wandered lowly—No room for him, too often, in the inn—Behold that life, the beautiful, the holy,The only sinless in this world of sin.We would see Jesus! we would have him with us,A guest beloved and honored at our board;How blessed were our bread if it were brokenBefore the sacred presence of the Lord!We would see Jesus! we would have him with us,Friend of our households and our children dear,Who still, should death and sorrow come among us,Would hasten to us, and would touch the bier.We would see Jesus! not alone in sorrow,But we would have him with us in our mirth;He, at whose right hand are joys forever,Doth not disdain to bless the joys of earth.We would see Jesus! but the wish is faithless;Thou still art with us, who hast loved us well;Thy blessed promise, "I am with you always,"Is ever faithful, O Immanuel!—Anna E. Hamilton.
We would see Jesus! we have longed to see himSince first the story of his love was told;We would that he might sojourn now among us,As once he sojourned with the Jews of old.
We would see Jesus! we have longed to see him
Since first the story of his love was told;
We would that he might sojourn now among us,
As once he sojourned with the Jews of old.
We would see Jesus! see the infant sleeping,As on our mother's knees we, too, have slept;We would see Jesus! see him gently weeping,As we, in infancy, ourselves have wept.
We would see Jesus! see the infant sleeping,
As on our mother's knees we, too, have slept;
We would see Jesus! see him gently weeping,
As we, in infancy, ourselves have wept.
We would behold him, as he wandered lowly—No room for him, too often, in the inn—Behold that life, the beautiful, the holy,The only sinless in this world of sin.
We would behold him, as he wandered lowly—
No room for him, too often, in the inn—
Behold that life, the beautiful, the holy,
The only sinless in this world of sin.
We would see Jesus! we would have him with us,A guest beloved and honored at our board;How blessed were our bread if it were brokenBefore the sacred presence of the Lord!
We would see Jesus! we would have him with us,
A guest beloved and honored at our board;
How blessed were our bread if it were broken
Before the sacred presence of the Lord!
We would see Jesus! we would have him with us,Friend of our households and our children dear,Who still, should death and sorrow come among us,Would hasten to us, and would touch the bier.
We would see Jesus! we would have him with us,
Friend of our households and our children dear,
Who still, should death and sorrow come among us,
Would hasten to us, and would touch the bier.
We would see Jesus! not alone in sorrow,But we would have him with us in our mirth;He, at whose right hand are joys forever,Doth not disdain to bless the joys of earth.
We would see Jesus! not alone in sorrow,
But we would have him with us in our mirth;
He, at whose right hand are joys forever,
Doth not disdain to bless the joys of earth.
We would see Jesus! but the wish is faithless;Thou still art with us, who hast loved us well;Thy blessed promise, "I am with you always,"Is ever faithful, O Immanuel!
We would see Jesus! but the wish is faithless;
Thou still art with us, who hast loved us well;
Thy blessed promise, "I am with you always,"
Is ever faithful, O Immanuel!
—Anna E. Hamilton.
—Anna E. Hamilton.
———
When thou wakest in the morning,Ere thou tread the untried wayOf the lot that lies before thee,Through the coming busy day,Whether sunbeams promise brightness,Whether dim forebodings fall,Be thy dawning glad or gloomy,Go to Jesus—tell him all!In the calm of sweet communionLet thy daily work be done;In the peace of soul outpouring,Care be banished, patience won;And if earth, with its enchantments,Seek the spirit to enthrall,Ere thou listen, ere thou answer,Turn to Jesus—tell him all.Then, as hour by hour glides by thee,Thou wilt blessed guidance know;Thine own burdens being lightened,Thou canst bear another's woe;Thou canst help the weak ones onward,Thou canst raise up those that fall;But remember, while thou servest,Still tell Jesus—tell him all!And if weariness creep o'er theeAs the day wears to its close,Or if sudden fierce temptationBrings thee face to face with foes,In thy weakness, in thy peril,Raise to heaven a trustful call;Strength and calm for every crisisCome—in telling Jesus all.
When thou wakest in the morning,Ere thou tread the untried wayOf the lot that lies before thee,Through the coming busy day,Whether sunbeams promise brightness,Whether dim forebodings fall,Be thy dawning glad or gloomy,Go to Jesus—tell him all!
When thou wakest in the morning,
Ere thou tread the untried way
Of the lot that lies before thee,
Through the coming busy day,
Whether sunbeams promise brightness,
Whether dim forebodings fall,
Be thy dawning glad or gloomy,
Go to Jesus—tell him all!
In the calm of sweet communionLet thy daily work be done;In the peace of soul outpouring,Care be banished, patience won;And if earth, with its enchantments,Seek the spirit to enthrall,Ere thou listen, ere thou answer,Turn to Jesus—tell him all.
In the calm of sweet communion
Let thy daily work be done;
In the peace of soul outpouring,
Care be banished, patience won;
And if earth, with its enchantments,
Seek the spirit to enthrall,
Ere thou listen, ere thou answer,
Turn to Jesus—tell him all.
Then, as hour by hour glides by thee,Thou wilt blessed guidance know;Thine own burdens being lightened,Thou canst bear another's woe;Thou canst help the weak ones onward,Thou canst raise up those that fall;But remember, while thou servest,Still tell Jesus—tell him all!
Then, as hour by hour glides by thee,
Thou wilt blessed guidance know;
Thine own burdens being lightened,
Thou canst bear another's woe;
Thou canst help the weak ones onward,
Thou canst raise up those that fall;
But remember, while thou servest,
Still tell Jesus—tell him all!
And if weariness creep o'er theeAs the day wears to its close,Or if sudden fierce temptationBrings thee face to face with foes,In thy weakness, in thy peril,Raise to heaven a trustful call;Strength and calm for every crisisCome—in telling Jesus all.
And if weariness creep o'er thee
As the day wears to its close,
Or if sudden fierce temptation
Brings thee face to face with foes,
In thy weakness, in thy peril,
Raise to heaven a trustful call;
Strength and calm for every crisis
Come—in telling Jesus all.
———
Anywhere with Jesus,Says the Christian heart;Let him take me where he will,So we do not part.Always sitting at his feetThere's no cause for fears;Anywhere with Jesus,In this vale of tears.Anywhere with Jesus,Though he leadeth meWhere the path is rough and long.Where the dangers be;Though he taketh from my heartAll I love below,Anywhere with JesusWill I gladly go.Anywhere with Jesus—Though he please to bringInto floods or fiercest flames,Into suffering;Though he bid me work or wait,Only bear for him—Anywhere with Jesus,This shall be my hymn.Anywhere with Jesus;For it cannot beDreary, dark, or desolateWhen he is with me;He will love me to the end,Every need supply;Anywhere with Jesus,Should I live or die.
Anywhere with Jesus,Says the Christian heart;Let him take me where he will,So we do not part.Always sitting at his feetThere's no cause for fears;Anywhere with Jesus,In this vale of tears.
Anywhere with Jesus,
Says the Christian heart;
Let him take me where he will,
So we do not part.
Always sitting at his feet
There's no cause for fears;
Anywhere with Jesus,
In this vale of tears.
Anywhere with Jesus,Though he leadeth meWhere the path is rough and long.Where the dangers be;Though he taketh from my heartAll I love below,Anywhere with JesusWill I gladly go.
Anywhere with Jesus,
Though he leadeth me
Where the path is rough and long.
Where the dangers be;
Though he taketh from my heart
All I love below,
Anywhere with Jesus
Will I gladly go.
Anywhere with Jesus—Though he please to bringInto floods or fiercest flames,Into suffering;Though he bid me work or wait,Only bear for him—Anywhere with Jesus,This shall be my hymn.
Anywhere with Jesus—
Though he please to bring
Into floods or fiercest flames,
Into suffering;
Though he bid me work or wait,
Only bear for him—
Anywhere with Jesus,
This shall be my hymn.
Anywhere with Jesus;For it cannot beDreary, dark, or desolateWhen he is with me;He will love me to the end,Every need supply;Anywhere with Jesus,Should I live or die.
Anywhere with Jesus;
For it cannot be
Dreary, dark, or desolate
When he is with me;
He will love me to the end,
Every need supply;
Anywhere with Jesus,
Should I live or die.
———
If life's pleasures cheer thee,Give them not thy heart,Lest the gifts ensnare theeFrom thy God to part;His praises speak, his favor seek,Fix there thy hope's foundation,Love him, and he shall ever beThe Rock of thy salvation.If sorrow e'er befall thee,Painful though it be,Let not fear appall thee:To thy Saviour flee;He, ever near, thy prayer will hear,And calm thy perturbation;The waves of woe shall ne'er o'erflowThe Rock of thy salvation.Death shall never harm thee,Shrink not from his blow,For thy God shall arm theeAnd victory bestow;For death shall bring to thee no sting,The grave no desolation;'Tis gain to die with Jesus nigh—The Rock of thy salvation.—Francis Scott Key.
If life's pleasures cheer thee,Give them not thy heart,Lest the gifts ensnare theeFrom thy God to part;His praises speak, his favor seek,Fix there thy hope's foundation,Love him, and he shall ever beThe Rock of thy salvation.
If life's pleasures cheer thee,
Give them not thy heart,
Lest the gifts ensnare thee
From thy God to part;
His praises speak, his favor seek,
Fix there thy hope's foundation,
Love him, and he shall ever be
The Rock of thy salvation.
If sorrow e'er befall thee,Painful though it be,Let not fear appall thee:To thy Saviour flee;He, ever near, thy prayer will hear,And calm thy perturbation;The waves of woe shall ne'er o'erflowThe Rock of thy salvation.
If sorrow e'er befall thee,
Painful though it be,
Let not fear appall thee:
To thy Saviour flee;
He, ever near, thy prayer will hear,
And calm thy perturbation;
The waves of woe shall ne'er o'erflow
The Rock of thy salvation.
Death shall never harm thee,Shrink not from his blow,For thy God shall arm theeAnd victory bestow;For death shall bring to thee no sting,The grave no desolation;'Tis gain to die with Jesus nigh—The Rock of thy salvation.
Death shall never harm thee,
Shrink not from his blow,
For thy God shall arm thee
And victory bestow;
For death shall bring to thee no sting,
The grave no desolation;
'Tis gain to die with Jesus nigh—
The Rock of thy salvation.
—Francis Scott Key.
—Francis Scott Key.
———