Let the world despise and leave me,
They have left my Saviour, too;
Human hearts and looks deceive me ;
Thou art not, like man, untrue;
And, while thou shalt smile upon me,
God of wisdom, love, and might,
Foes may hate and friends may shun me :
Show thy face, and all is bright.
Go, then, earthly fame and treasure!
Come, disaster, scorn, and pain!
In thy service pain is pleasure;
With thy favor loss is gain.
I have call'd thee Abba, Father ;
I have stay'd my heart on thee:
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather,
All must work for good to me.
Man may trouble and distress me,
'T will but drive me to thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me,
Heaven will bring me sweeter rest. Oh, 't is not in grief to harm me,
While thy love is left to me! Oh, 't were not in joy to charm me, Were that joy unmix'd with thee!
Take, my soul, thy full salvation,
Rise o'er sin and fear and care;
Joy to find in every station
Something still to do or bear.
Think what Spirit dwells within thee;
What a Father's smile is thine;
What a Saviour died to win thee:
Child of heaven, shouldst thou repine?
Haste then on from grace to glory,
Arm'd by faith, and wing'd by prayer;
Heaven's eternal day 's before thee,
God's own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission,
Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days,
Hope soon change to glad fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise !
THERE is a safe and secret place
Beneath the wings divine,
Reserv'd for all the heirs of grace:
Oh, be that refuge mine!
The least and feeblest there may bide
Uninjur'd and unaw'd;
While thousands fall on every side,
He rests secure in God.
The angels watch him on his way, And aid with friendly arm; And Satan, roaring for his prey, May hate, but cannot harm.
He feeds in pastures large and fair
Of love and truth divine;
O child of God, O glory's heir,
How rich a lot is thine!
A hand almighty to defend,
An ear for every call,
An honor'd life, a peaceful end,
And heaven to crown it all!
Come unto me and rest;
Lay down, thou weary one, lay down
Thy head upon my breast.
I came to Jesus as I was,
Weary, and worn, and sad,
I found in him a resting-place,
And he has made me glad.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
Behold, I freely give
The living water, thirsty one,
Stoop down, and drink, and live.
I came to Jesus and I drank
Of that life-giving stream;
My thirst was quench'd, my soul reviv'd, And now I live in him.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
I am this dark world's light,
Look unto me, thy morn shall rise
And all thy day be bright.
I look'd to Jesus, and I found
In him my Star, my Sun;
And in that light of life I'll walk
Till travelling days are done.
THY way, not mine, O Lord,
However dark it be !
Lead me by thine own hand,
Choose out the path for me.
Smooth let it be, or rough,
It will be still the best ; Winding or straight, it matters not, Right onward to thy rest.
I dare not choose my lot;
I would not, if I might;
Choose thou for me, my God;
So shall I walk aright.
The kingdom that I seek
Is thine; so let the way
That leads to it be thine,
Else I must surely stray.
Take thou my cup, and it
With joy or sorrow fill,
As best to thee may seem;
Choose thou my good and ill;
Choose thou for me my friends,
My sickness or my health;
Choose thou my cares for me,
My poverty or wealth.
Not mine, not mine the choice,
In things or great or small; Be thou my guide, my strength, My wisdom, and my all.
'Tis evening now!
O Saviour, wilt not thou
Enter my home and heart,
Nor ever hence depart,
Even when the morning breaks,
And earth again awakes?
Thou wilt abide with me,
And I with thee.
The world is old!
Its air grows dull and cold;
Upon its aged face
The wrinkles come apace;
Its western sky is wan,
Its youth and joy are gone.
O Master, be our light,
When o'er us falls the night.
Evil is round!
Iniquities abound;
Our cottage will be lone
When the great Sun is gone;
When my thoughts, unruly,
Dare to doubt of Thee,
And thy ways to question
Deem is to be free:
Till, through cloud and darkness,
Wholly gone astray,
They find no returning
To the narrow way:
Then, my God! mine only
Trust and truth art Thou;
Save me by the passion
Of the bleeding brow!
When my heart, forgetful
Of the love that yet,
Though by man forgotten,
Never can forget;
All its best affections
Spent on things below,
In its sad despondings
Knows not where to go:
Then, my God! mine only
Hope and help Thou art;
Save me by the passion
Of the bleeding heart!
THE WILL OF GOD
I WORSHIP thee, sweet will of God!
And all thy ways adore;
And every day I live, I seem
To love thee more and more.
Thou wert the end, the blessed rule
Of our Saviour's toils and tears; Thou wert the passion of his heart Those three and thirty years.
And he hath breath'd into my soul
A special love of thee,
A love to lose my will in his,
And by that loss be free.
I love to see thee bring to nought
The plans of wily men;
When simple hearts outwit the wise,
Oh, thou art loveliest then.
The headstrong world it presses hard
Upon the church full oft,
And then how easily thou turn'st
The hard ways into soft.
I love to kiss each print where thou
Hast set thine unseen feet;
I cannot fear thee, blessed will!
Thine empire is so sweet.
When obstacles and trials seem
Like prison walls to be,
I do the little I can do,
And leave the rest to thee.
I know not what it is to doubt,
My heart is ever gay;
I run no risk, for, come what will,
Thou always hast thy way.
I have no cares, O blessed will !
For all my cares are thine :
I live in triumph, Lord! for thou
Hast made thy triumphs mine.
And when it seems no chance or change
From grief can set me free,
Hope finds its strength in helplessness,
And gayly waits on thee.
Man's weakness, waiting upon God,
Its end can never miss,
For men on earth no work can do
More angel-like than this.
Ride on, ride on, triumphantly,
Thou glorious will, ride on!
Faith's pilgrim sons behind thee take
The road that thou hast gone.
He always wins who sides with God,
To him no chance is lost;
God's will is sweetest to him, when
It triumphs at his cost.
Ill that he blesses is our good,
And unbless'd good is ill;
And all is right that seems most wrong,
If it be his sweet will.
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