Jesus, I my cross have taken
1 Jesus, I my cross have taken,
all to leave and 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.
2 Man may trouble and distress me,
'twill but drive me to thy breast;
life 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.
3 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 Savior died to win thee:
child of heaven, shouldst thou repine?
4 Hasten on from grace to glory,
armed by faith and winged by prayer;
heavenís 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.