How Shall I Follow Him I Serve?

How shall I fol­low Him I serve?

How shall I co­py Him I love?

Not from the bless­èd foot­steps swerve

Which lead me to His seat ab­ove?

Privations

sor­rows

bit­ter scorn

The life of toil

the mean ab­ode

The faith­less kiss

the crown of thorn

Are these the con­se­crat­ed road?

’Twas thus He suf­fered

though a Son

Foreknowing

choos­ing

feel­ing all

Until the per­fect work was done

And drunk the bit­ter cup of gall.

Oh

should my path through suf­fer­ing lie

Forbid it I should e’er re­pine!

Still let me turn to Cal­va­ry

Nor heed my griefs

re­mem­ber­ing Thine.

But when

my days with com­forts crowned

As hus­band and as par­ent blessed

I look with tear­ful joy around

And clasp my trea­sures to my breast;

Oh

let me think how Thou didst leave

Untasted ev­ery pure de­light

To fast

to faint

to watch

to grieve

The toil­some day

the home­less night—

To faint

to grieve

to die for me!

Thou cam­est

not Thy­self to please!

And

dear as earth­ly com­forts be

Shall I not love Thee more than these?

Yes

I would count them all but loss

To gain the no­tice of Thine eye.

Flesh shrinks and trem­bles at the cross

But Thou canst give the vic­to­ry.

Thou

who did for Pe­ter’s faith didst pray

Against whose bless­èd self were hurled

The tempt­er’s darts

be Thou my stay!

Help me to ov­er­come the world.

Thy grace can make the boast­ful meek

The wa­ver­ing firm

the sens­ual pure;

Put heav­en­ly might up­on the weak

And make them hap­py who en­dure.

Oh

still that need­ful grace af­ford!

On Thee my trem­bling soul I cast.

Perfect Thy work with­in me

Lord

And own my worth­less name at last.

Oh

still that need­ful grace af­ford!

On Thee my trem­bling soul I cast.

Perfect Thy work with­in me

Lord

And own my worth­less name at last.