Chapter I: Love Thy Will (2)

Whatever the fever, his touch can heal it;
Whatever the tempest, his voice can still.
There is only a rest as we seek his pleasure,
There is only a rest as we choose his will.
And some day, after life's fitful fever,
I think we shall say, in the home on high,
"If the hands that he touched but did his bidding,
How little it matters what else went by!"
Ah, Lord, Thou knowest us altogether,
Each heart's sore sickness, whatever it be;
Touch thou our hands! Let the fever leave us,
And so shall we minister unto thee!

JESUS OUR JOY

Jesus, thou Joy of loving hearts!
Thou Fount of life! thou Light of men!
From the best bliss that earth imparts
We turn, unfilled, to thee again.

Thy truth unchanged hath ever stood;
Thou savest those that on thee call;
To them that seek thee thou art good,
To them that find thee, all in all.

We taste thee, O thou Living Bread,
And long to feast upon thee still;
We drink of thee, the Fountain Head,
And thirst our souls from thee to fill!

Our restless spirits yearn for thee
Where'er our changeful lot is cast;
Glad, when thy gracious smile we see,
Blest, when our faith can hold thee fast.

O Jesus, ever with us stay;
Make all our moments calm and bright;
Chase the dark night of sin away;
Shed o'er the world thy holy light.

--Bernard of Clairvaux, tr. by Ray Palmer.

FRIEND OF SOULS

O Friend of souls! how blest the time
When in thy love I rest!
When from my weariness I climb
E'en to thy tender breast!
The night of sorrow endeth there,
Thy rays outshine the sun;
And in thy pardon and thy care
The heaven of heavens is won.

The world may call itself my foe,
Or flatter and allure,
I care not for the world--I go
To this tried friend and sure.
And when life's fiercest storms are sent
Upon life's wildest sea,
My little bark is confident
Because it holdeth thee.

When the law threatens endless death
Upon the awful hill,
Straightway from her consuming breath
My soul goes higher still--
Goeth to Jesus, wounded, slain,
And maketh him her home,
Whence she will not go out again,
And where death cannnot come.

I do not fear the wilderness--
Where thou hast been before;
Nay, rather will I daily press
After thee, near thee, more.
Thou art my food, on thee I lean;
Thou makest my heart sing;
And to thy heavenly pastures green
All thy dear flock dost bring.

And if the gate that opens there
Be dark to other men,
It is not dark to those who share
The heart of Jesus then.
That is not losing much of life
Which is not losing thee,
Who art as present in the strife
As in the victory.

To others death seems dark and grim,
But not, O Lord, to me;
I know thou ne'er forsakest him
Who puts his trust in thee.
Nay, rather with a joyful heart
I welcome the release
From this dark desert, and depart
To thy eternal peace.

--Wolfgang C. Dessler.

MY LORD AND I

I have a Friend so precious,
So very dear to me,
He loves me with such tender love,
He loves so faithfully,
I could not live apart from him,
I love to feel him nigh;
And so we dwell together,
My Lord and I.

Sometimes I'm faint and weary;
He knows that I am weak,
And as he bids me lean on him
His help I gladly seek;
He leads me in the paths of light
Beneath a sunny sky,
And so we walk together,
My Lord and I.

He knows how much I love him,
He knows I love him well,
But with what love he loveth me
My tongue can never tell.
It is an everlasting love
In ever rich supply,
And so we love each other,
My Lord and I.

I tell him all my sorrows,
I tell him all my joys,
I tell him all that pleases me,
I tell him what annoys.
He tells me what I ought to do,
He tells me how to try,
And so we talk together,
My Lord and I.

He knows how I am longing
Some weary soul to win,
And so he bids me go and speak
The loving word for him.
He bids me tell his wondrous love,
And why he came to die,
And so we work together,
My Lord and I.

I have his yoke upon me,
And easy 'tis to bear;
In the burden which he carries
I gladly take a share;
For then it is my happiness
To have him always nigh;
We bear the yoke together,
My Lord and I.

--L. Shorey.

Ever, when tempted, make me see,
Beneath the olive's moon-pierced shade,
My God alone, outstretched and bruised,
And bleeding on the earth he made;
And make me feel it was my sin,
As though no other sin there were,
That was to him who bears the world
A load that he could scarcely bear.

--Frederick William Faber.

JESUS ALL-SUFFICIENT

If only he is mine--
If but this poor heart
Never more, in grief or joy,
May from him depart,
Then farewell to sadness;
All I feel is love, and hope, and gladness.

If only he is mine,
Then from all below,
Leaning on my pilgrim staff,
Gladly forth I go
From the crowd who follow,
In the broad, bright road, their pleasures false and hollow.

If only he is mine,
Then all else is given;
Every blessing lifts my eyes
And my heart to heaven.
Filled with heavenly love,
Earthly hopes and fears no longer tempt to move.

There, when he is mine,
Is my Fatherland,
And my heritage of bliss
Cometh from his hand.
Now I find again,
In his people, love long lost, and mourned in vain.

--Novalis.

JESUS SUPREME

Be thou supreme, Lord Jesus Christ,
Live o'er again in me,
That, filled with love, I may become
A Christ in my degree.

Be thou supreme, Lord Jesus Christ,
My inmost being fill;
So shall I think as thou dost think,
And will as thou dost will.

Be thou supreme, Lord Jesus Christ,
Thy life transfigure mine;
And through this veil of mortal flesh
Here may thy glory shine.

Be thou supreme, Lord Jesus Christ,
Thy love's constraint I feel,
Thy cross I see, and mind and heart
Obey its mute appeal.

Be thou supreme, Lord Jesus Christ,
And when this life is o'er
May I be with thee where thou art,
Like thee, forever more.

ALL FOR JESUS

What shall I sing for thee,
My Lord and Light?
What shall I bring to thee,
Master, to-night?
O for the strong desire!
O for the touch of fire!
Then shall my tuneful lyre
Praise thee aright.

Thou hast given all for me,
Saviour divine!
I would give all to thee,
Evermore thine!
Let my heart cling to thee,
Let my lips sing for thee,
Let me just bring to thee
All that is mine!

Didst thou not die for me,
Ransom for sin?
Ascending on high for me,
Pleading within?
All shall be dross for thee,
All shall be loss for thee,
Welcome the cross for thee
I, too, shall win!

What can I do for thee,
Glorious Friend?
Let me be true to thee
Right to the end!
Close to thy bleeding side,
Washed in the crimson tide,
On till the waves divide,
Till I ascend!

Then a still sweeter song,
Jesus, I'll bring;
Up 'mid the ransomed throng
Thee will I sing!
Never to leave thee now,
Never to grieve thee now,
Low at thy feet to bow,
Wonderful King!

--Henry Burton.

CHRIST OUR EXAMPLE

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.

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 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.

IT PASSETH KNOWLEDGE

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 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 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.

I _am_ an 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! _fill_ me, 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.

--Mary Shekelnot.

SEEING JESUS

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 I _shall_ see 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.

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

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 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 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 chary
Of costly service to our King.

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.

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.

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

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 still
I ever will love thee,
Solely because my God, thou art,
Who first hast loved me.

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.

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 thyself
Hast loved me, O Lord!

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.

I'VE FOUND A JOY IN SORROW

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 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 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!

PATIENCE OF JESUS

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 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.

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 eye
In us, thy brethren, see
That gentleness and grace that spring
From union, Lord, with thee.

--Edward Denny.

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

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 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, 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 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

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.

SEALED

I am thine own, O Christ--
Henceforth entirely thine;
And life from this glad hour,
New life, is mine!

No earthly joy shall lure
My quiet soul from thee;
This deep delight, so pure,
Is heaven to me.

My little song of praise
In sweet content I sing;
To thee the note I raise,
My King, my King!

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.

I ask this gift of thee--
A life all lily fair,
And fragrant as the gardens be
Where seraphs are.

--Helen Bradley.

JESUS, MY GOD AND MY ALL

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 how
My transports to control;
Thy love is like a burning fire
Within my very soul.

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 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.

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! 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!

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.

--Frederick William Faber.

LOVE--JOY

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.

WHY NOT?

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 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.

JESUS ON THE SEA

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."

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 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 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."

LET US SEE JESUS

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 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 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 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-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 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!

--Anna B. Warner.

A SONG OF LOVE

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 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 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 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 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.

THE UNFAILING FRIEND

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 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.

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!

THE SONG OF A HEATHEN

(Sojourning in Galilee, A. D. 32)

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 swear
I will follow him through heaven and hell,
The earth, the sea, the air.

--Richard Watson Gilder.

"IT IS TOWARD EVENING"

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 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 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.

'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.

THE BLESSED FACE

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 spot
As where I meet with thee.

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 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.

--Ray Palmer.

TO THEE

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

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.

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 be
Thine ever, thine alone!
My heart, my life, my all, I bring
To thee, my Saviour and my King.

WE LONG TO SEE JESUS

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 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 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! 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.

"TELL JESUS"

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 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!

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

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 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 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 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.

OUR ROCK

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'erflow
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.

The dearest thing on earth to me
Is Jesus' will;
Whate'er I do, where'er I be,
To do his will.
Worldly pleasures cannot charm me,
Powers of evil cannot harm me,
Death itself cannot alarm me,
For 'tis his will.

SWEET PROMISES

O Jesus, I have promised,
To serve thee to the end;
Be thou forever near me,
My Master and my Friend.
I shall not fear the battle
If thou art by my side,
Nor wander from the pathway
If thou wilt be my guide.

O let me feel thee near me;
The world is ever near;
I see the sights that dazzle,
The tempting sounds I hear;
My foes are ever near me,
Around me and within;
But, Jesus, draw thou nearer,
And shield my soul from sin.

O Jesus, thou hast promised
To all who follow thee,
That where thou art in glory
There shall thy servant be;
And, Jesus, I have promised
To serve thee to the end;
O give me grace to follow
My Master and my Friend.

--John E. Bode.

THE KING OF LOVE

The King of love my Shepherd is,
Whose goodness faileth never;
I nothing lack if I am his,
And he is mine forever.

Where streams of living water flow
My ransomed soul he leadeth,
And where the verdant pastures grow
With food celestial feedeth.

Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,
But yet in love he sought me,
And on his shoulder gently laid,
And home rejoicing brought me.

In death's dark vale I fear no ill,
With thee, dear Lord, beside me;
Thy rod and staff my comfort still,
Thy cross before to guide me.

And so, through all the length of day,
Thy goodness faileth never;
Good Shepherd, may I sing thy praise
Within thy house forever.

--Henry W. Baker.

WE WOULD SEE JESUS

We would see Jesus when our hopes are brightest
And all that earth can grant is at its best;
When not a drift of shadow, even the lightest,
Blurs our clear atmosphere of perfect rest.

We would see Jesus when the joy of living
Holds all our senses in a realm of bliss,
That we may know he hath the power of giving
Enduring rapture more supreme than this.

We would see Jesus when our pathway darkens,
Beneath the dread of some impending ill;
When the discouraged soul no longer harkens
To hope, who beckons in the distance still.

We would see Jesus when the stress of sorrow
Strains to their utmost tension heart and brain;
That he may teach us how despair may borrow
From faith the one sure antidote of pain.

We would see Jesus when our best are taken,
And we must meet, unshared, all shocks of woe;
Because he bore for us, alone, forsaken,
Burdens whose weight no human heart could know.

We would see Jesus when our fading vision,
Lost to the consciousness of earth and sky,
Has only insight for the far elysian;
We would see Jesus when we come to die!

--Margaret J. Preston.

ALL THINGS IN JESUS

Jesus, the calm that fills my breast,
No other heart than thine can give;
This peace unstirred, this joy of rest,
None but thy loved ones can receive.

My weary soul has found a charm
That turns to blessedness my woe;
Within the shelter of thine arm
I rest secure from storm and foe.

In desert wastes I feel no dread,
Fearless I walk the trackless sea;
I care not where my way is led,
Since all my life is life with thee.

O Christ, through changeful years my Guide,
My Comforter in sorrow's night,
My Friend, when friendless--still abide,
My Lord, my Counsellor, my Light.

My time, my powers, I give to thee;
My inmost soul 'tis thine to move;
I wait for thy eternity,
I wait in peace, in praise, in love.

--Frank Mason North.

EVERYWHERE WITH JESUS

Everywhere with Jesus;
O how sweet the thought!
Filling all my soul with joy,
Deep with comfort fraught.
Never absent far from him,
Always at his side;
Everywhere with Jesus,
Trusting him to guide.

Everywhere with Jesus;
For no place can be
Where I may not find him near,
Very near to me;
Closer than the flesh I wear--
In my inmost heart--
Everywhere with Jesus;
We shall never part.

Everywhere with Jesus;
Do whate'er I may,
Work, or talk, or walk abroad,
Study, preach, or pray,
Still I find him, full of love,
Ready ere I call.
Everywhere with Jesus;
He's my all in all.

Everywhere with Jesus;
Let the world assail,
Naught can shake my sure repose.
He will never fail.
I am weak, but he is strong,
Mighty to defend;
Everywhere with Jesus,
Safe with such a friend.

Everywhere with Jesus;
Careful should I be
Lest some secret thought of guile
His pure eye may see.
Holy, harmless, undefiled,
He no sin can know;
Everywhere with Jesus
Spotless I may go.

Everywhere with Jesus
Would that all might say;
Happy then beyond compare,
Glad by night and day,
All would taste of joy sublime,
Perfect peace and rest:
Everywhere with Jesus,
Nothing could molest.

--James Mudge.

THE DEAREST FRIEND

Do not I love thee, O my Lord?
Then let me nothing love;
Dead be my heart to every joy,
When Jesus cannot move.

Is not thy name melodious still
To mine attentive ear?
Doth not each pulse with pleasure bound
My Saviour's voice to hear?

Hast thou a lamb in all thy flock
I would disdain to feed?
Hast thou a foe before whose face
I fear thy cause to plead?

Would not mine ardent spirit vie
With angels round the throne
To execute thy sacred will,
And make thy glory known?

Thou know'st I love thee, dearest Lord,
But O I long to soar
Far from the sphere of mortal joys,
And learn to love thee more.

--Philip Doddridge.

As by the light of opening day
The stars are all concealed,
So earthly pleasures fade away
When Jesus is revealed.

Creatures no more divide my choice;
I bid them all depart:
His name, his love, his gracious voice,
Have fixed my roving heart.

--John Newton.

FAIREST LORD JESUS

Fairest Lord Jesus!
Ruler of all nature!
O thou of God and man the Son!
Thee will I cherish,
Thee will I honor,
Thee, my soul's glory, joy, and crown.

Fair are the meadows,
Fairer still the woodlands,
Robed in the blooming garb of spring;
Jesus is fairer,
Jesus is purer,
Who makes the woeful heart to sing.

Fair is the sunshine,
Fairer still the moonlight,
And all the twinkling starry host;
Jesus shines brighter,
Jesus shines purer
Than all the angels heaven can boast.

--From the German.

THE CALL OF JESUS

Jesus calls us; o'er the tumult
Of our life's wild, restless sea,
Day by day his sweet voice soundeth,
Saying, Christian, follow me!

Jesus calls us from the worship
Of the vain world's golden store;
From each idol that would keep us;
Saying, Christian, love me more!

In our joys and in our sorrows,
Days of toil and hours of ease,
Still he calls, in cares and pleasures,
Christian, love me more than these!

Jesus calls us! by thy mercies,
Saviour, may we hear thy call;
Give our hearts to thy obedience,
Serve and love thee best of all.

--Cecil Frances Alexander.

If washed in Jesus' blood,
Then bear his likeness too,
And as you onward press
Ask, What would Jesus do?
Be brave to do the right,
And scorn to be untrue;
When fear would whisper, Yield,
Ask, What would Jesus do?

LIFE

TIME, OPPORTUNITY, EXPERIENCE, CHARACTER

WITHOUT HASTE AND WITHOUT REST

Without haste and without rest;
Bind the motto to thy breast.
Bear it with thee as a spell,
Storm or sunshine, guard it well!
Heed not flowers that round thee bloom;
Bear it onward to the tomb!

Haste not--let no thoughtless deed
Mar the spirit's steady speed;
Ponder well, and know the right,
Onward, then, with all thy might;
Haste not--years can ne'er atone
For one reckless action done!

Rest not--life is sweeping by.
Do and dare before you die;
Something worthy and sublime
Leave behind to conquer time;
Glorious 'tis to live for aye,
When these forms have passed away.

Haste not--rest not. Calm in strife
Meekly bear the storms of life;
Duty be thy polar guide;
Do the right, whate'er betide;
Haste not--rest not. Conflicts past,
God shall crown thy work at last!

--Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

WHY DO I LIVE?

I live for those who love me;
For those I know are true;
For the heaven that smiles above me
And awaits my spirit too;
For all human ties that bind me,
For the task my God assigned me,
For the bright hope left behind me,
And the good that I can do.

I live to learn their story
Who suffered for my sake,
To emulate their glory
And follow in their wake;
Bards, martyrs, patriots, sages,
The nobles of all ages.
Whose deeds crown History's pages
And time's great volume make.

I live to hail the season--
By gifted minds foretold--
When man shall live by reason,
And not alone for gold;
When man to man united,
And every wrong thing righted,
The whole world shall be lighted
As Eden was of old.

I live to hold communion
With all that is divine,
To feel that there is union
'Twixt nature's heart and mine;
To profit by affliction,
Reap truth from fields of fiction,
Grow wiser from conviction,
Fulfilling God's design.

I live for those who love me,
For those who know me true,
For the heaven that smiles above me
And awaits my spirit too;
For the wrongs that need resistance,
For the cause that needs assistance,
For the future in the distance,
And the good that I can do.

--George Linnaeus Banks.

BEAUTIFUL THINGS

Beautiful faces are those that wear--
It matters little if dark or fair--
Whole-souled honesty printed there.

Beautiful eyes are those that show
Like crystal panes where hearth fires glow,
Beautiful thoughts that burn below.

Beautiful lips are those whose words
Leap from the heart like songs of birds,
Yet whose utterances prudence girds.

Beautiful hands are those that do
Work that is earnest, and brave, and true,
Moment by moment the long day through.

Beautiful feet are those that go
On kindly ministries to and fro--
Down lowliest ways, if God wills it so.

Beautiful shoulders are those that bear
Ceaseless burdens of homely care
With patient grace and daily prayer.

Beautiful lives are those that bless--
Silent rivers of happiness
Whose hidden fountain but few may guess.

Beautiful twilight, at set of sun;
Beautiful goal, with race well won;
Beautiful rest, with work well done.

Beautiful graves, where grasses creep,
Where brown leaves fall, where drifts lie deep
Over worn-out hands--O, beautiful sleep.

AT SUNSET

It isn't the thing you do, dear,
It's the thing you've left undone
Which gives you a bit of heartache
At the setting of the sun.
The tender word forgotten,
The letter you did not write,
The flower you might have sent, dear,
Are your haunting ghosts to-night.

The stone you might have lifted
Out of a brother's way,
The bit of heartsome counsel
You were hurried too much to say,
The loving touch of the hand, dear,
The gentle and winsome tone
That you had no time or thought for,
With troubles enough of your own.

The little act of kindness,
So easily out of mind;
Those chances to be angels,
Which every mortal finds--
They come in night and silence--
Each chill, reproachful wraith--
When hope is faint and flagging,
And a blight has dropped on faith.

For life is all too short, dear,
And sorrow is all too great,
To suffer our slow compassion
That tarries until too late;
And it's not the thing you do, dear,
It's the thing you leave undone,
Which gives you the bit of heartache
At the setting of the sun.

--Margaret E. Sangster.

THE BUILDERS

All are architects of Fate,
Working in these walls of Time;
Some with massive deeds and great,
Some with ornaments of rhyme.

Nothing useless is, or low;
Each thing in its place is best;
And what seems but idle show
Strengthens and supports the rest.

For the structure that we raise
Time is with material filled;
Our to-days and yesterdays
Are the blocks with which we build.

Truly shape and fashion these;
Leave no yawning gaps between;
Think not, because no man sees,
Such things will remain unseen.

In the elder days of Art
Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
For the gods see everywhere.

Let us do our work as well,
Both the unseen and the seen;
Make the house where gods may dwell
Beautiful, entire, and clean;

Else our lives are incomplete,
Standing in these walls of Time,
Broken stairways, where the feet
Stumble as they seek to climb.

Build to-day, then, strong and sure,
With a firm and ample base;
And ascending and secure
Shall to-morrow find its place.

Thus alone can we attain
To those turrets where the eye
Sees the world as one vast plain
And one boundless reach of sky.

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years,
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
Unhurt amid the war of elements,
The wreck of matter, and the crash of worlds.

--Joseph Addison.

RETROSPECTION

He was better to me than all my hopes,
He was better than all my fears;
He made a road of my broken works
And a rainbow of my tears.
The billows that guarded my sea girt path
But carried my Lord on their crest;
When I dwell on the days of my wilderness march
I can lean on his love for the rest.

He emptied my hands of my treasured store
And his covenant love revealed;
There was not a wound in my aching heart
But the balm of his breath hath healed.
Oh! tender and true was the chastening sore,
In wisdom, that taught and tried,
Till the soul that he sought was trusting in him
And in nothing on earth beside.

He guided by paths that I could not see,
By ways that I have not known,
The crooked was straight and the rough made plain,
As I followed the Lord alone.
I praise him still for the pleasant palms
And the water springs by the way;
For the glowing pillars of flame by night
And the sheltering clouds by day.

There is light for me on the trackless wild
As the wonders of old I trace,
When the God of the whole earth went before
To search me a resting place.
Has he changed for me? Nay! He changes not.
He will bring me by some new way,
Through fire and flood and each crafty foe,
As safely as yesterday.

And if to warfare he calls me forth,
He buckles my armor on;
He greets me with smiles and a word of cheer
For battles his sword hath won;
He wipes my brows as I droop and faint,
He blesses my hand to toil;
Faithful is he as he washes my feet,
From the trace of each earthly soil.

Never a watch on the dreariest halt
But some promise of love endears;
I read from the past that my future shall be
Far better than all my fears.
Like the golden pot of the wilderness bread,
Laid up with the blossoming rod,
All safe in the ark, with the law of the Lord,
Is the covenant care of my God.

--Anna Shipton.

ONE DAY'S SERVICE

O to serve God for a day!
From jubilant morn to the peace and the calm of the night
To tread no path but his happy and blossoming way,
To seek no delight
But the joy that is one with the joy at heaven's heart;
Only to go where thou art,
O God of all blessing and beauty! to love, to obey
With obedience sweetened by love and love made strong by the right;
Not once, not once to be drunken with self,
Or to play the hypocrite's poisoned part,
Or to bend the knee of my soul to the passion for pelf,
Or the glittering gods of the mart;
Through each glad hour to lay on the wings of its flight
Some flower for the angels' sight;
Some fragrant fashion of service, scarlet and white--
White for the pure intent, and red where the pulses start.
O, if thus I could serve him, could perfectly serve him one day,
I think I could perfectly serve him forever--forever and aye!

--Amos R. Wells.

Life is a burden; bear it.
Life is a duty; dare it.
Life is a thorn crown; wear it.
Though it break your heart in twain,
Though the burden crush you down,
Close your lips and hide the pain;
First the cross and then the crown.

BETTER THINGS

Better to smell the violet cool than sip the glowing wine;
Better to hark a hidden brook than watch a diamond shine.

Better the love of gentle heart than beauty's favors proud,
Better the rose's living seed than roses in a crowd.

Better to love in loneliness than bask in love all day;
Better the fountain in the heart than the fountain by the way.

Better be fed by a mother's hand than eat alone at will;
Better to trust in God than say, My goods my storehouse fill.

Better to be a little wise than in knowledge to abound;
Better to teach a child than toil to fill perfection's round.

Better sit at a master's feet than thrill a listening state;
Better suspect that thou art proud than be sure that thou art great.

Better to walk in the realm unseen than watch the hour's event;
Better the _well done_ at the last than the air with shoutings rent.

Better to have a quiet grief than a hurrying delight;
Better the twilight of the dawn than the noonday burning bright.

Better to sit at the water's birth than a sea of waves to win;
To live in the love that floweth forth than the love that cometh in.

Better a death when work is done than earth's most favored birth;
Better a child in God's great house than the king of all the earth.

--George Macdonald.

Time is indeed a precious boon,
But with the boon a task is given:
The heart must learn its duty well
To man on earth and God in heaven.

--Eliza Cook.

THE LENGTH OF LIFE

Are your sorrows hard to bear?
Life is short!
Do you drag the chain of care?
Life is short!
Soon will come the glad release
Into rest and joy and peace;
Soon the weary thread be spun,
And the final labor done.
Keep your courage! Hold the fort!
Life is short!

Are you faint with hope delayed?
Life is long!
Tarries that for which you prayed?
Life is long!
What delights may not abide--
What ambitions satisfied--
What possessions may not be
In God's great eternity?
Lift the heart! Be glad and strong!
Life is long!

--Amos R. Wells.

IS LIFE WORTH LIVING?