The Cross of Christ

A heart

O God

that pain nor sor­row tir­eth

I see Thy will de­mands

my good re­quir­eth;

May I this task

not thought­less

but dis­cern­ing

Be dai­ly learn­ing.

How oft

when mur­mur­ing

At what Heav’n hath grant­ed

We still but pluck the thorns our fol­ly plant­ed

Christ’s cross our own de­sert for sin­ful fall­ing

Profanely call­ing.

But is his pain

Thy ho­ly law who spurn­eth

Nor seeks Thy fear

nor Thy obe­di­ence learn­eth

Nor rues

but for some brok­en earth­ly bub­ble

A Christ­ian trou­ble?

Yet ev­en when Thou scourg­est

Thy sweet pi­ty

Woos us again to the eter­nal ci­ty;

Thou com’st to wake us from our sin­ful sleep­ing

By pain and weep­ing.

But if I walk un­blamed in all up­right­ness

The dark­est cloud shall turn for me to bright­ness;

Thou rul­est

Lord! and all Thy paths are tend­ing

To good un­end­ing.

A pil­grim and a strang­er now I wan­der

I seek not here my bliss—I find it yon­der;

O bless­èd coun­ter­poise! this mo­ment’s sor­row—

That bright to­mor­row!

And if I cause­less suf­fer

un­de­serv­ing

For Christ’s dear sake

Ne’er from His pre­cepts swerv­ing

Then safe I look

with all the ran­somed na­tion

For His sal­va­tion.

Frail child of dust am I

by trou­bles driv­en;

Yet in my need I lift my heart to Heav­en;

From thence firm trust and con­fi­dence I bor­row

For ev­ery sor­row.

Lift up thine eyes! Who guides yon orb­èd mo­tion?

Who saith

No fur­ther! to the feet of ocean?

Is He thy help­er only? and not ra­ther

Thy ten­der­est Fa­ther?

He is all wise:

Wouldst thou His know­ledge mea­sure?

Seek why He sends pain

When thou choos­est plea­sure?

Thou know’st not now;

But thou shalt find here­af­ter

For weep­ing

laugh­ter.

Heav’nward He lifts us by this pre­sent griev­ing

That we

His Spir­it’s ho­li­ness re­ceiv­ing

May soothe and bind

by strength to us im­part­ed

The brok­en heart­ed.

The cross of Christ makes wise by pa­tient bear­ing;

Patience ex­pe­ri­ence works; ex­pe­ri­ence dar­ing;

A heart that dares in ev­ery con­flict’s light­est:

Hope for the bright­est!