|Text:||Henry F. Lyte||1824|
|Music:||Henry T. Smart|
|OHT Incipit:|| |
Jesus, I my cross have taken,
All to leave to follow Thee;
Destitute, despised, forsaken,
Thou from hence my All shalt be:
Perish every fond ambition,
All I've sought, or hoped, or known;
Yet how rich is my condition,
God and heaven are still my own.
Man may trouble and distress me,
'Twill but drive me to Thy breast;
Life with with trials hard may press me,
Heaven will bring me sweeter rest:
O 'tis not in grief to harm me
While Thy love is left to me;
O 'twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmixed 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 there on from grace to glory,
Armed by faith, and winged 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.
MIDI sequence copyright © 1999 Brian M. Ames.accesses. Updated 5/25/02
This page copyright © 1999 Brian M. Ames All rights reserved.