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Monday, June 30, 2014

A Grandmother's Bible with Jesus, Savior, pilot me and Cling to the Bible, tho’ all else be taken

Jesus, Savior, pilot me,
Over life’s tempestuous sea;
Unknown waves before me roll,
Hiding rock and treach’rous shoal;
Chart and compass come from Thee;
Jesus, Savior, pilot me.

As a mother stills her child,
Thou canst hush the ocean wild;
Boist’rous waves obey Thy will,
When Thou say’st to them “Be still!”
Wond’rous Sov’reign of the Sea,
Jesus, Savior, pilot me.

When at last I near the shore,
And the fearful breakers roar
‘Twixt me and my peaceful rest,
Then, while leaning on Thy breast,
May I hear Thee say to me,
“Fear not, I will pilot thee.”

Rev. Edward Hopper

Cling to the Bible, tho’ all else be taken;
Lose not its promises precious and sure;
Souls that are sleeping its echoes awaken,
Drink from the fountain, so peaceful, so pure.

Cling to the Bible, this jewel, this treasure
Brings to us honor and saves fallen man;
Pearl whose great value no mortal can measure,
Seek and secure it, O soul, while you can.

Lamp for the feet that in by-ways have wander’d,
Guide for the youth that would otherwise fall;
Hope for the sinner whose best days are squander’d,
Staff for the aged, and best book of all.


Cling to the Bible!
Cling to the Bible!
Cling to the Bible,
Our Lamp and Guide.

M. J. Smith

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Dried Flowers and Book with When I a ransomed sinner see and Children of the heavenly King

When I a ransomed sinner see,
Redeemed from death, from sin set free,
It causes no surprise to me,-
It’s just like my Savior.

When all pollution’s washed away,
And I am kept from day to day,
My throbbing heart with joy can say,
It’s just like my Savior.

While bowing at the mercy-seat,
He comes my waiting soul to greet,
And our communion is so sweet,-
It’s just like my Savior.

And when my hour shall come to die,
His holy angels from the sky
Will bear me to my home on high,-
It’s just like my Savior.

Oh, Jesus is a friend so true!
There’s naught too hard for Him to do;
He purchased life for me and you,-
It’s just like my Savior.

Rev. H. J. ZelleyChildren of the heavenly King,
As ye journey, sweetly sing;
Sing your Saviour’s worthy praise,
Glorious in His works and ways.

We are travelling home to God
In the way the fathers trod;
They are happy now, and we
Soon their happiness shall see.

Shout, ye little flock and blest;
Ye on Jesus’ throne shall rest;
There your seat is now prepared,
There your kingdom and reward.

Fear not, brethren; joyful stand
On the borders of your land;
Jesus Christ, your Father’s Son,
Bids you undismayed go on.

Lord, obediently we go,
Gladly leaving all below;
Only Thou our Leader be,
And we still will follow Thee.

Rev. John Cennick

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Candles with Unanswered yet? The pray’r your lips have pleaded and The shadows of the evening hours

Unanswered yet?  The pray’r your lips have pleaded
In agony of heart these many years?
Does faith begin to fail, is hope departing,
And think you all in vain those falling tears?
Say not the Father hath not heard your pray’r;
You shall have your desire, sometime, somewhere,
You shall have your desire, sometime, somewhere.

Unanswered yet?  Tho’ when you first presented
This one petition at the Father’s throne,
It seemed you could not wait the time of asking,
So urgent was your heart to make it known.
Tho’ years have passed since then, do not despair;
The Lord will answer you, sometime, somewhere,
The Lord will answer you, sometime, somewhere.

Unanswered, yet?  Nay, do not say ungranted;
Perhaps your part is not yet wholly done;
The work began when first your pray’r was uttered,
And God will finish what He has begun.
If you will keep the incense burning there,
His glory you shall see, sometime, somewhere,
His glory you shall see, sometime, somewhere.

Unanswered yet?  Faith cannot be unanswered;
Her feet were firmly planted on the Rock;
Amid the wildest storm pray’r stands undaunted,
Nor quails before the loudest thunder shock;
She knows Omnipotence has heard her pray’r,
And cries, “It shall be done, sometime, somewhere,”
And cries, “It shall be done, sometime, somewhere.”

Mrs. Ophelia G. AdamsThe shadows of the evening hours
  Fall from the darkening sky;
Upon the fragrance of the flowers
  The dews of evening lie.
Before Thy throne, O Lord of heaven,
  We kneel at close of day;
Look on Thy children from on high,
  And hear us while we pray.

The sorrows of Thy servants, Lord,
  O do not Thou despise,
But let the incense of our prayers
  Before Thy mercy rise.
The brightness of the coming night
  Upon the darkness rolls;
With hopes of future glory chase
  The shadows on our souls.

Slowly the rays of daylight fade:
  So fade within our heart
The hopes in earthly love and joy,
  That one by one depart.
Slowly the bright stars, one by one,
  Within the heavens shine:
Give us, O Lord, fresh hopes in heaven,
  And trust in things divine.

Let peace, O Lord, Thy peace, O God,
  Upon our souls descend;
From midnight fears and perils,
  Thou our trembling hearts defend.
Give us a respite from our toil;
  Calm and subdue our woes;
Through the long day we labour, Lord,
  O give us now repose. Amen

Adelaide A. Procter

Friday, June 27, 2014

Bursting with Color with By Thy birth, and by Thy tears and To-day Thy mercy calls me

By Thy birth, and by Thy tears;
By Thy human griefs and fears;
By Thy conflict in the hour
Of the subtle tempter’s pow’r,-

By the tenderness that wept
O’er the grave where Laz’rus slept;
By the bitter tears that flow’d
Over Salem’s lost abode,-

By Thy lonely hour of pray’r;
By the fearful conflict there;
By Thy cross and dying cries;
By Thy one great sacrifice,-

By Thy triumph o’er the grave;
By Thy pow’r the lost to save;
By Thy high, majestic throne;
By the empire all Thine own,-

Savior, look with pitying eye;
Savior, help me or I die;
Savior, look with pitying eye;
Savior, help me, or I die.

Robert GrantTo-day Thy mercy calls me
  To wash away my sin;
However great my trespass,
  Whate’er I may have been,
However long from mercy
  I may have turned away,
Thy blood, O Christ, can cleanse me,
  And make me white to-day.

To-day Thy gate is open,
  And all who enter in
Shall find a Father’s welcome,
  And pardon for their sin;
The past shall be forgotten,
  A present joy be given,
A future grace be promised,
  A glorious crown in heaven.

To-day the Father calls me,
  The Holy Spirit waits,
The blessed angels gather
  Around the heavenly gates:
No question will be asked me,
  How often I have come;
Although I oft have wandered,
  It is my Father’s home.

O all-embracing mercy,
  Thou ever-open door,
What shall I do without thee
  When heart and eyes run o’er?
When all things seem against me,
  To drive me to despair,
I know one gate is open,
  One ear will hear my prayer.

Oswald Allen

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Love Those Peonies with He will not forsake you and You’re longing to work for the Master

He will not forsake you
Whose glories shine afar;
He who feeds the raven,
And numbers ev’ry star,
Will not let His children
One hour forgotten be;
Trust the heav’nly Father,
Trust Him who cares for thee.

He will not forsake you,
The children of the King,
Made in His own likeness,
His saving grace to sing;
Bought with blood so precious,
Redeemed at such a cost,
He will not forget you,
His word cannot be lost.

He will not forsake you;
Oh let the message ring,
Bright or stormy weather
‘Twill hope and gladness bring;
Let us sweetly trust Him,
Rejoicing in His love,
Till we better praise Him
In that bright home above.

Trust Him, trust Him,
Whatever may betide;
He who clothes the lilies
Is ever at your side;
Trust Him, trust Him
Whose glories shine afar;
He will not forsake you
Who numbers ev’ry star.

E. E. Hewitt

You’re longing to work for the Master,
Yet waiting for something to do;
You fancy the future is holding
Some wonderful mission for you;
But while you are waiting the moments
Are rapidly passing away;
O brother, awake from your dreaming,
Do something for Jesus today.

Go rescue that wandering brother
Who sinks ‘neath his burden of woe;
A single kind action may save him,
If love and compassion you show;
Don’t shrink from the vilest about you,
If you can but lead them from sin;
For this is the grandest of missions,-
Lost souls for the Master to win.

Go sing happy songs of rejoicing
With those who no sorrows have known;
Go weep with the heart-broken mourner,
Go comfort the sad and the lone;
From pitfalls and snares of the tempter
Go rescue the thoughtless and wild:
Go win from pale lips a “God bless you,”
Go brighten the life of a child.

O never, my brother, stand waiting,
Be willing to do what you can;
The humblest service is needed,
To fill out the Father’s great plan;
Be earning your stars of rejoicing
While earth life is passing away;
Win some one to meet you in glory,-
Do something for Jesus today.

Do something, do something,
Do something for Jesus today;
O brother, the moments are passing,
Do something for Jesus today.

Lanta Wilson Smith

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Summer Bouquet with Do you ever feel downhearted or discouraged and New every morning is the love

Do you ever feel downhearted or discouraged?
Do you ever think your work is all in vain?
Do the burdens thrust upon you make you tremble,
And you fear that you shall ne’er the vict’ry gain?

Darkest night will always come before the dawning,
Silver linings shine on God’s side of the cloud;
All your journey He has promised to be with you,
Naught has come to you but what His love allowed.

God is mighty-He is able to deliver;
Faith can victor be in ev’ry trying hour;
Fear, and care, and sin, and sorrow be defeated
By our faith in God’s almighty conqu’ring pow’r.


Have faith in God, the sun will shine,
Tho’ dark the cloud may be today;
His heart hath planned your path and mine;
Have faith in God, have faith alway.

May Agnew StephensNew every morning is the love
Our wakening and uprising prove;
Through sleep and darkness safely brought,
Restored to life, and power, and thought.

New mercies, each returning day,
Hover around us while we pray;
New perils past, new sins forgiven,
New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven.

If on our daily course our mind
Be set to hallow all we find,
New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.

Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be,
As more of heaven in each we see;
Some softening gleam of love and prayer
Shall dawn on every cross and care.

The trivial round, the common task,
Will furnish all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves, a road
To bring us daily nearer God.

Seek we no more; content with these,
Let present rapture, comfort, ease,
As heaven shall bid them, come and go:
The secret this of rest below.

Only, O Lord, in Thy dear love,
Fit us for perfect rest above;
And help us, this and every day,
To live more nearly as we pray. Amen

John Keble

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Peonies and Glassware with There is a City, I am told with Art thou weary, art thou languid

There is a City, I am told
Where all the streets are paved with gold;
A Home prepared for you and me,
Where we may spend eternity.....
Where we may spend eternity.

Me thinks I hear the heav’nly song,
In hallelujahs loud and long:
Come floating o’er the mighty sea,
A message from eternity.....
A message from eternity.

Our loved ones who have gone before,
Are beck’ning us to that brighter shore;
That we may from our cares be free,
And sing thro’ all eternity.....
And sing thro’ all eternity.

Some day my blessed Lord will call,
In tones that gently rise and fall;
And He will say, “Come home with me,
To dwell in blest eternity”.....
And dwell in blest eternity.

Frank A. SimpkinsArt thou weary, art thou languid,
Art thou sore distrest?
“Come to Me,” saith One, and “coming,
     Be at rest.”

Hath He marks to lead me to Him,
If He be my Guide?
“In His feet and hands are wound-prints,
     And His side.”

Is there diadem, as Monarch,
That His brow adorns?
“Yes, a crown, in very surety,
     But of thorns.”

If I find Him, if I follow,
What His guerdon here?
“Many a sorrow, many a labor,
    Many a tear.”

If I still hold closely to Him,
What hath He at last?
“Sorrow vanquished, labor ended,
     Jordan passed.”

If I ask Him to receive me,
Will He say me nay?
“Not till earth and not till heaven
     Pass away.”

Rev. John M. Neale

Monday, June 23, 2014

Yellow Roses with 'Twill not be long before the night is over and O Thou, the contrite sinners’ Friend

‘Twill not be long before the night is over,
The gloomy night of sin;
Already thro’ the shadows we discover
The dawn light stealing in.
And just ahead we hear the angel chorus
Singing at heaven’s door-
The voices of our dear ones gone before us,
Who live forevermore!

‘Twill not be long; be patient, pilgrim, knowing
That God sees what is best;
His will decrees our coming and our going-
Let’s trust Him for the rest.
Be sure of this-He never is mistaken,
His plans are wise and just,
And never yet has He that soul forsaken
Who puts in Him its trust.

‘Twill not be long; a little more rough sailing
Before the port is won,
Then we’ll go in, ere wind and wave prevailing,
And voyaging be done.
And O!  what joy, to feel the sweet winds blowing
From that celestial shore,
As we throw out the heav’nly anchor, knowing
It holds forevermore!

‘Twill not be long-a little while of waiting
For God to whisper “Come!”
Then heav’n, for all earth’s trials compensating,
And home, eternal home!

Eben E. RexfordO Thou, the contrite sinners’ Friend,
Who, loving, lov’st them to the end,
On this alone my hopes depend,
That Thou wilt plead for me.

When, weary in the Christian race,
Far off appears my resting-place,
And, fainting, I mistrust Thy grace,
Then, Saviour, plead for me.

When I have erred and gone astray,
Afar from Thine and wisdom’s way,
And see no glimmering guiding ray,
Still, Saviour, plead for me.

When Satan, by my sins made bold,
Strives from Thy cross to loose my hold,
Then with Thy pitying arms enfold,
And plead, O plead for me.

And when my dying hour draws near,
O’ercast with sorrow, pain, and fear,
Then to my fainting sight appear,
Pleading in heaven for me.

When the full light of heavenly day
Reveals my sins in dread array,
Say Thou hast washed them all away;
O say Thou plead’st for me.

Charlotte Elliott

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Daffodils with Heav'n is the Christian's Fatherland and Sweet is Thy mercy, Lord

Heav’n is the Christian’s Fatherland-
The heart’s dear home,
Where friends reach out a beck’ning hand
To those who roam;
And loving voices, sweet and low,
As in a dream,
We often hear, when soft winds blow
Across the stream.

Oh, Fatherland, upon thy hills
What glory lies;
In dreams of thee what rapture thrills
Our hearts, our eyes;
And when we wake, we softly say,
What rest shall come
To us that happy, happy day
When we get home.

Oh, dear, dear Fatherland of ours,
We long for thee!
Thy meadows fair, thy fadeless flow’rs
We long to see;
But knowing that God knoweth best,
Life’s hills we climb,
And say, He’ll call us home to rest,
In His good time.

Oh, Heav’n’s the homeland of the heart,
So far, so near?
Faith swings the doors of space apart,
And heav’n is here!

Eben E. RexfordSweet is Thy mercy, Lord;
  Before Thy mercy-seat
My soul, adoring pleads Thy word,
  And owns Thy mercy sweet.

My need and Thy desires
  Are all in Christ complete;
Thou hast the justice truth requires,
  And I Thy mercy sweet.

Where’er Thy Name is blest,
  Where’er Thy people meet,
There I delight in Thee to rest,
  And find Thy mercy sweet.

Light Thou my weary way,
  Lead Thou my wandering feet,
That while I stay on earth I may
  Still find Thy mercy sweet.

Thus shall the heavenly host
  Hear all my songs repeat
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
  My joy, Thy mercy sweet.

Rev. John S. B. Monsell

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Delicate Looking with As we've sown so shall we reap with Awake, my soul, in joyful lays

As we’ve sown so shall we reap,
When the harvest time appears,
Whether it be joy or gladness, weal or woe,
This is the thought for us to keep,
As thro’ life we onward move,
We shall gather at the harvest what we sow.

As we’ve sown so shall we reap,
In the tide of coming years,
Reaping fruits of sinful life, or time well spent,
Then this thought in view shall keep,
While the hours are going by,
Shall we sow unholy strife or sweet content?

As we’ve sown so shall we reap,
When the fields are ready, white,
And the Master calls for reapers here below,
Let us then this thought still keep,
While the trumpet call is heard,
Shall we ladened well, or empty-handed go?

On, on, ever to the harvest,
Sowing either weal or woe,
This the tho’t for us to keep,
As thro’ life we onward move,
We shall gather at the harvest what we sow.

F. M. Davis
Awake, my soul, in joyful lays,
And sing thy great Redeemer’s praise;
He justly claims a song from me,
His loving-kindness is so free.

He saw me ruined in the fall,
Yet loved me notwithstanding all,
And saved me from my lost estate,
His loving-kindness is so great.

Through mighty hosts of cruel foes,
Where earth and hell my way oppose,
He safely leads my soul along,
His loving-kindness is so strong.

So when I pass death’s gloomy vale,
And life and mortal powers shall fail,
O may my last expiring breath
His loving-kindness sing in death.

Then shall I mount, and soar away
To the bright world of endless day;
There shall I sing, with sweet surprise,
His loving-kindness in the skies.

Rev. Samuel Medley

Friday, June 20, 2014

Wild Flowers with You told me the story of Christ and His love with Jesus, merciful and mild

You told me the story of Christ and His love,
You showed me the pathway to mansions above;
I called to the Savior, He answered my pray’r;
You led me to Jesus, I will meet you there.

You show’d me the fountain that cleanseth the soul,
The streams of salvation that wondrously roll;
I sought the Great Healer, the blessing to share;
You led me to Jesus, I will meet you there.

You told me of mercies that fail nevermore,
Of grace all sufficient, of love’s boundless store:
And now I am trusting the Father’s kind care:
You led me to Jesus, I will meet you there.

The light of that country shall never grow dim,
So bright is the glory that streameth from Him;
O joy everlasting, beyond all compare!
You led me to Jesus, I will meet you there.

I will meet you there, I will meet you there;
Is anyone saying, I will meet you there?
In the beautiful city so bright and so fair;
You led me to Jesus, I will meet you there.

E. E. Hewitt
Jesus, merciful and mild,
Lead me as a helpless child:
On no other arm but Thine
Would my weary soul recline.
Thou art ready to forgive,
Thou canst bid the sinner live;
Guide the wanderer, day by day,
In the strait and narrow way.

Thou canst fit me by Thy grace
For the heavenly dwelling-place;
All Thy promises are sure,
Ever shall Thy love endure;
Then what more could I desire,
How to greater bliss aspire?
All I need, in Thee I see;
Thou art All in all to me.

Jesus, Saviour all Divine,
Hast Thou made me truly Thine?
Hast Thou bought me by Thy blood?
Reconciled my heart to God?
Hearken to my tender prayer,
Let me Thine own image bear,
Let me love Thee more and more
Till I reach heaven’s blissful shore.

Thomas Hastings

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Tea, Book and Flowers with In the Christian's home in glory and Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin

In the Christian’s home in glory,
There remains a land of rest;
There my Savior’s gone before me,
To fulfill my soul’s request.

He is fitting up my mansion,
Which eternally shall stand,
For my stay shall not be transient,
In that holy, happy land.

Pain and sickness ne’er shall enter,
Grief nor woe my lot shall share;
But, in that celestial center,
I a crown of life shall wear.

Death itself shall then be vanquished,
And his sting shall be withdrawn;
Shout for gladness, oh, ye ransomed!
Hail with joy the rising morn.

Sing, oh! sing, ye heirs of glory!
Shout your triumph as you go;
Zion’s gate will open for you,
You shall find an entrance thro’.

There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for the weary,
There is rest for you.
On the other side of Jordan,
In the sweet fields of Eden,
Where the tree of life is blooming,
There is rest for you.

Wm. Hunter

Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin?
The blood of Jesus whispers peace within.

Peace, perfect peace, by thronging duties pressed?
To do the will of Jesus, this is rest.

Peace, perfect peace, with sorrows surging round?
On Jesus’ bosom naught but calm is found.

Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away?
In Jesus’ keeping we are safe, and they.

Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown?
Jesus we know, and He is on the throne.

Peace, perfect peace, death shadowing us and ours?
Jesus has vanquished death and all its powers.

It is enough: earth’s struggles soon shall cease,
And Jesus call us to heaven’s perfect peace.

Bishop Edward H. Bickersteth

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Oatmeal and Raspberries with I am a Christian pilgrim and Since Jesus is my Friend

I am a Christian pilgrim,
And journey to a land,
Where, robed in royal garments,
The Lord’s anointed stand;
In Jesus’ blood, these saved ones
Have wash’d their garments white,
And soon I hope to join them,
In yonder land of light.

Why should I be discouraged,
Tho’ oft the sky appears
All veiled in clouds and darkness,
And I have doubts and fears?
My Lord and my Redeemer,
While He my leader is,
Will guide my steps in safety,
What want I more than this?

I meet with many troubles,
And trials on the way;
But when I look to Jesus,
And in the spirit I pray,
He gives me grace and courage
And helps my soul along;
And so I go rejoicing,
And sing my pilgrim song.

I feel like going on, brother,
I feel like going on,
I’m on my way to Zion,
And I feel like going on.

E. A. HoffmanSince Jesus is my Friend,
  And I to Him belong,
It matters not what foes intend,
  However fierce and strong.

He whispers in my breast
  Sweet words of holy cheer,
How they who seek in God their rest
  Shall ever find Him near;

How God hath built above
  A city fair and new,
Where eye and heart shall see and prove
  What faith has counted true.

My heart for gladness springs;
  It cannot more be sad;
For very joy it laughs and sings, -
  Sees naught but sunshine glad.

The sun that lights mine eyes,
  Is Christ, the Lord I love;
I sing for joy of that which lies
  Stored up for us above. Amen

Rev. Paul Gerhardt
Tr. Catherine Winkworth

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Remembering with I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger and The day is past and over

I’m a pilgrim, and I’m a stranger;
I can tarry, I can tarry but a night;
Do not detain me, for I am going
To where the fountains are ever flowing;
I’m a pilgrim, and I’m a stranger,
I can tarry, I can tarry but a night.

There the glory is ever shining;
Oh, my longing heart, my longing heart is there;
Here in this country so dark and dreary,
I long have wandered forlorn and weary;
I’m a pilgrim, and I’m a stranger,
I can tarry, I can tarry but a night.

There’s the city to which I journey;
My Redeemer, my Redeemer is its light;
There is no sorrow nor any sighing,
Nor any tears there, nor any dying;
I’m a pilgrim, and I’m a stranger,
I can tarry, I can tarry but a night.

Mrs. M. S. B. DanaThe day is past and over:
  All thanks, O Lord to Thee!
I pray Thee that offenseless
  The hours of dark may be.
O Jesus, keep me in Thy sight,
And guard me thro’ the coming night.

The joys of day are over:
  I lift my heart to Thee,
And call on Thee that sinless
  The hours of gloom may be.
O Jesus, make their darkness light,
And guard me through the coming night.

The toils of day are over:
  I raise the hymn to Thee,
And ask that free from peril
  The hours of fear may be.
O Jesus, keep me in Thy sight,
And guard me through the coming night.

Lord, that in death I sleep not,
  And lest my foe should say,
“I have prevailed against him,”
  Lighten mine eyes, I pray:
O Jesus, keep me in Thy sight,
And guard me through the coming night.

Be Thou my soul’s preserver,
  O God, for Thou dost know
How many are the perils
  Through which I have to go.
Lover of men, O hear my call,
And guard and save me from them all! Amen

St. Anatolius Tr. John Mason Neale

Monday, June 16, 2014

Crabapple Blossoms with O think of the home over there and O Jesus, I have promised

O think of the home over there,
By the side of the river of light,
Where the saints, all immortal and fair,
Are robed in their garments of white,
Over there, over there,
O think of the home over there,
Over there, over there, over there,
O think of the home over there.

O think of the friends over there,
Who before us the journey have trod,
Of the songs that they breathe on the air,
In their home in the palace of God.
Over there, over there,
O think of the friends over there,
Over there, over there, over there,
O think of the friends over there.

My Savior is now over there,
There my kindreds and friends are at rest;
Then away from my sorrow and care,
Let me fly to the land of the blest.
Over there, over there,
My Savior is now over there,
Over there, over there, over there,
My Savior is now over there.

I’ll soon be at home over there,
For the end of my journey I see;
Many dear to my heart, over there,
Are watching and waiting for me.
Over there, over there,
I’ll soon be at home over there,
Over there, over there, over there,
I’ll soon be at home over there.

D. W. C. Huntington

O Jesus, I have promised
  To serve Thee to the end;
Be Thou for ever near me,
  My Master and my Friend:
I shall not fear the battle
  If Thou art by my side,
Nor wander from the pathway
  If Thou wilt be my Guide.

O let me feel Thee near me,
  The world is ever near;
I see the sights that dazzle,
  The tempting sounds I hear:
My foes are ever near me,
  Around me and within;
But, Jesus, draw Thou nearer,
  And shield my soul from sin.

O Jesus, Thou hast promised
  To all who follow Thee
That where Thou art in glory
  There shall Thy servant be;
And, Jesus, I have promised
  To serve Thee to the end;
O give me grace to follow
  My Master and my Friend.

Rev. John E. Bode

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Colored Glass and Orange with In the time when trials vex you, and Look away to Jesus

In the time when trials vex you,
When the days are long and dreary,
And your burdened soul is weary,
O remember Jesus Christ.

When the clouds are black and low’ring,
When the thunderbolts are pealing,
And within you fear is stealing,
O remember Jesus Christ.

When the gates of hell, with fury,
Seek to bring to desolation
Souls whom Jesus bro’t salvation,
O remember Jesus Christ.

See yon tomb, O careless sinner!
While the days of hope are flying,
And your conscience dead or dying,
O remember Jesus Christ.

When death’s angel spreads his pinions,
He, the silver cord will sever,
But we’ll meet beyond the river
With our Savior, Jesus Christ.

O remember Jesus Christ, remember Jesus Christ
Who bare in His body on the tree,
All the load of sinful man;
Perfected salvation’s plan-
Remember, O remember Jesus Christ.

French E. OliverLook away to Jesus,
  Soul by woe oppress’d;
‘Twas for Thee He suffer’d,
  Come to Him and rest,
All thy griefs He carried,
  All thy sins He bore;
Look away to Jesus;
  Trust Him evermore.

Look away to Jesus,
  Soldier in the fight;
When the battle thickens
  Keep thine armor bright;
Though thy foes be many,
  Tho’ thy strength be small,
Look away to Jesus;
  He shall conquer all.

Look away to Jesus,
  When the skies are fair;
Calm seas have their dangers;
  Mariner, beware!
Earthly joys are fleeting,
  Going as they came,
Look away to Jesus,
  Evermore the same.

Look away to Jesus,
‘  Mid the toil and heat;
Soon will come the resting
  At the Master’s feet;
For the guests are bidden,
  And the feast is spread;
Look away to Jesus,
  In His footsteps tread.

When, amid the music
  Of the endless feast,
Saints will sing His praises,
  Thine shall not be least;
Then, amid the glories
  Of the crystal sea,
Look away to Jesus,
  Through eternity.

Rev. Henry Burton

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Peonies in Hobnail Vase with I cannot tell why my Savior and Oh, for the peace that floweth as a river

I cannot tell why my Savior
Should suffer and die for me,
Or why, unworthy, his favor
Should fall so unceasingly.

I cannot tell where he leads me,
But gladly I trust him still;
I follow on, for he needs me
Some part in his plan to fill.

I know not now; but up yonder
When I shall behold his face,
He’ll there unfold all the wonder
Of Jesus’ redeeming grace.

And there in fullness of glory
When Jesus’ dear face I see,
I’ll tell the wonderful story,
And sing of his love to me.

I sit in silence and wonder,
And all his mercy I ponder;
And still it seems so surprising,
The love of my Lord for me.

Thoro Harris
Oh, for the peace that floweth as a river,
  Making life’s desert places bloom and smile;
Oh, for the faith to grasp “Heav’n’s bright forever,”
  Amid the shadows of earth’s “little while.”

“A little while” for patient vigil-keeping,
  To face the storm and wrestle with the strong;
“A little while” to sow the seed with weeping,
  Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest song.

“A little while” the earthen pitcher taking,
  To wayside brooks, from far off fountains fed;
Then the parched lip its thirst forever slacking
  Beside the fulness of the Fountain-head.

“A little while” to keep the oil from failing,
  “A little while” faith’s flickering lamp to trim;
And then the Bridegroom’s coming footsteps hailing,
  We’ll haste to meet Him with the bridal hymn.

Mrs. Jane Crewdson

Friday, June 13, 2014

Roses and Tea Cup with Sowing in the morning, sowing seeds of kindness and One sweetly solemn thought

Sowing in the morning, sowing seeds of kindness,
Sowing in the noontide and the dewy eve;
Waiting for the harvest, and the time of reaping,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

Sowing in the sunshine, sowing in the shadows,
Fearing neither clouds nor winter’s chilling breeze;
By and by the harvest, and the labor ended,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

Going forth with weeping, sowing for the Master,
Tho’ the loss sustain’d our spirit often grieves;
When our weeping’s over, He will bid us welcome,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves;
Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

Knowles Shaw

One sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me o’er and o’er;
I’m nearer home today, today,
Than I have been before.

Nearer my Father’s house,
Where many mansions be;
Nearer the great white throne today,
Nearer the crystal sea.

Nearer the bound of life,
Where burdens are laid down;
Nearer to leave the cross today,
And nearer to the crown.

Be near me when my feet
Are slipping o’er the brink;
For I am nearer home today,
Perhaps, than now I think.

Nearer my home,
Nearer my home,
Nearer my home today, today,
Than I have been before.

Miss Phoebe Carey

Thursday, June 12, 2014

White Peonies in Drinking Glass with Beneath the cross of Jesus and Oh, spirit, o’erwhelmed by thy failures and fears

Beneath the cross of Jesus
I fain would take my stand,
The shadow of a mighty Rock
Within a weary land,
A home within the wilderness,
A rest upon the way,
From the burning of the noontide heat,
And the burden of the day.

Upon that cross of Jesus
Mine eye at times can see
The very dying form of One
Who suffered there for me;
And from my smitten heart with tears
Two wonders I confess,-
The wonders of His glorious love
And my own worthlessness.

I take, O cross, thy shadow
For my abiding place;
I ask no other sunshine than
The sunshine of His face;
Content to let the world go by,
To know no gain or loss,
My sinful self my only shame,
My glory all the cross!

Elizabeth C. Clephane

Oh, spirit, o’erwhelmed by thy failures and fears,
Look up to thy Lord, tho’ with trembling and tears:
Weak Faith, to thy call seem the heav’ns only dumb?
To thee is the message, “Hold fast till I come.”

Hold fast when the world would allure thee to sin;
Hold fast when the tempter assails from within;
In sunshine or sadness, in gain or in loss,
To falter were madness; Oh, cling to the cross.

Thy Saviour is coming in tenderest love,
To make up His jewels and bear them above:
Oh, child, in thine anguish, despairing or dumb,
Remember the message, “Hold fast till I come.”

Hold fast till I come,
Hold fast till I come;
A bright crown awaits thee;
Hold fast till I come.

Mrs. E. W. Griswold

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Wild Peonies with When they crucified my Saviour and Now from the altar of my heart

When they crucified my Saviour
On the cross of Calvary,
There a blessed fount was opened
For my cleansing, full and free,
And my sins were all forgiven
Just by faith in His shed blood-
They are wash’d away for ever
By the crimson flood!

Now I plead the blood of Jesus,
And He’s with me all the way;
I am happy and rejoicing
In His favor ev’ry day;
In the burden and the trial
There is none so kind as He;
My Redeemer is my kinsman,
And His blood saves me!

He will robe me with white raiment
When my pilgrimage is past,
And present me pure and spotless
With the sanctified at last;
I will sing His praise and glory
Unto all eternity,
Telling evermore the story
How His blood saved me!

It cleanseth me, it cleanseth me!
The precious blood of Jesus
Fully cleanseth me!
It cleanseth me,
It cleanseth me!
The precious blood of Jesus
Fully cleanseth me!

Mrs. Elizabeth Miller

Now from the altar of my heart
  Let incense flames arise;
Assist me, Lord, to offer up
  Mine evening sacrifice.

Minutes and mercies multiplied
  Have made up all this day;
Minutes came quick, but mercies were
  More fleet and free than they.

New time, new favour, and new joys
  Do a new song require;
Till I shall praise Thee as I would,
  Accept my heart’s desire. Amen

John Mason

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Peonies in a Crock with Is your life a channel of blessing? and Come, my soul, thou must be waking

Is your life a channel of blessing?
Is the love of God flowing thro’ you?
Are you telling the lost of the Savior?
Are you ready His service to do?

Is your life a channel of blessing?
Are you burdened for those that are lost?
Have you urged upon those who are straying,
The Savior who died on the cross?

Is your life a channel of blessing?
Is it daily telling for Him?
Have you spoken the word of salvation
To those who are dying in sin?

We cannot be channels of blessing
If our lives are not free from all sin;
We will barriers be and a hindrance
To those we are trying to win.

Make me a channel of blessing today,
Make me a channel of blessing, I pray;
My life possessing, my service blessing,
Make me a channel of blessing today.

H. G. Smyth

Come, my soul, thou must be waking.
Now is breaking
  O’er the earth another day:
Come, to Him Who made this splendour
See thou render
  All thy feeble strength can pay.

Gladly hail the sun returning,
Ready burning
  Be the incense of thy powers;
For the night is safely ended,
God hath tended
  With His care thy helpless hours.

Pray that He may prosper ever
Each endeavour,
  When thine aim is good and true;
And that He may ever thwart thee,
And convert thee,
  When thou evil wouldst pursue.

Think that He thy ways beholdeth;
He unfoldeth
  Every fault that lurks within;
He the hidden shame glossed over
Can discover,
  And discern each deed of sin.

Mayest thou on life’s last morrow,
Free from sorrow,
  Pass away in slumber sweet;
And, released from death’s dark sadness,
Rise in gladness
  That far brighter Sun to greet.

Only God’s free gifts abuse not,
Light refuse not,
  But His Spirit’s voice obey;
Thou with Him shalt dwell, beholding
Light enfolding
  All things in unclouded day.

F. R. L. Canitz Tr. Henry J. Buckoll

Monday, June 9, 2014

White Roses and Hobnail Vase with The love of Jesus, who can tell and Holy, Holy, Holy! Lord God Almighty!

The love of Jesus, who can tell
Tho’ he may know it, oh, so well?
The love that ev’ry want supplies,
The love that always satisfies,
His love is all I need!

The love of Jesus, oh, what bliss!
To hear Him whisper, I am His,
Tho’ I may falter on the way,
He will not let me go astray,
His love is all I need!

The love of Jesus, oh, how sweet!
To hide in such a safe retreat,
Tho’ Satan would my hopes destroy,
My Savior’s love is still my joy,
His love is all I need!

So wonderful, His love to me,
So wonderful, how can it be;
My ev’ry sin on Him was laid,
My ev’ry debt by Him was paid?
His love is all I need!

E. O. Excell

Holy, Holy, Holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee;
Holy, Holy, Holy! Merciful and Mighty!
God in three Persons, blessed Trinity!

Holy, Holy, Holy! all the saints adore Thee,
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
Cherubim and Seraphim falling down before Thee,
Which wert and art, and evermore shall be.

Holy, Holy, Holy! tho’ the darkness hide Thee,
Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see,
Only Thou art Holy, there is none beside Thee,
Perfect in pow’r, in love, and purity.

Holy, Holy, Holy! Lord God Almighty!
All Thy works shall praise Thy name in earth, and sky, and sea;
Holy, Holy, Holy! Merciful and Mighty!
God in three Persons, blessed Trinity! Amen.

Reginald Heber, D. D.

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Catalpa Tree Blossoms with In looking thro’ my tears one day and “Man of sorrows,” what a name

In looking thro’ my tears one day,
I saw Mount Calvary,
Beneath the cross there flowed a stream
Of grace, enough for me.

While standing there, my trembling heart,
Once full of agony,
Could scarce believe the sight I saw
Of grace, enough for me.

When I beheld my ev’ry sin
Nailed to the cruel tree,
I felt a flood go thro’ my soul
Of grace, enough for me.

When I am safe within the veil,
My portion there will be,
To sing thro’ all the years to come
Of grace, enough for me.

Grace is flowing from Calvary,
Grace as fathomless as the sea,
Grace for time and eternity,
Grace, enough for me.

E. O. Excell
“Man of Sorrows,” what a name
For the Son of God, who came,
Ruin’d sinners to reclaim!
Hallelujah, what a Saviour!

Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned He stood;
Sealed my pardon with His blood:
Hallelujah, what a Saviour!

Guilty, vile and helpless, we;
Spotless Lamb of God, was He,
“Full atonement,” can it be?
Hallelujah, what a Saviour!

Lifted up was He to die,
“It is finished,” was His cry,
Now in heaven exalted high;
Hallelujah, what a Saviour!

When He comes, our glorious King,
All His ransomed home to bring,
Then anew this song we’ll sing:
Hallelujah, what a Saviour!

P. P. Bliss

Saturday, June 7, 2014

Multitude of Flowers with Oh, the peace that fills my soul and Come near me, O my Saviour

Oh, the peace that fills my soul,
Sitting at the feet of Jesus;
Cleans’d from sin, made free and whole,
Sitting at the feet of Jesus.

Christ is mine in storm and calm,
Sitting at the feet of Jesus;
All my wounds are filled with balm,
Sitting at the feet of Jesus.

Here I rest from toil and strife,
Sitting at the feet of Jesus;
Safe beneath the Tree of Life,
Sitting at the feet of Jesus.

Come, ye guilty, and be healed,
Sitting at the feet of Jesus;
Freely is God’s love revealed,
Sitting at the feet of Jesus.

This is my abiding place,
Saved by His amazing grace,
Looking upward to His face,
Sitting at the feet of Jesus.

Priscilla J. Owens
Come near me, O my Saviour;
Thy tenderness reveal;
O, let me know the sympathy
Which Thou for me dost feel,
I need Thee ev’ry moment;
Thine absence brings dismay;
But when the tempter hurls his darts,
‘Twere death with Thee away.

Come near me, my Redeemer,
And never leave my side;
My bark, when toss’d on trouble’s sea,
The storm cannot outride,
Unless Thy word of power
Arrest the surging wave;
No voice but Thine its rage can quell,
No arm but Thine can save.

Come near me, blessed Jesus,
I need Thee in my joy,
No less than when the direst ills
My happiness destroy;
For when the sun shines o’er me
And flowers strew my way,
Without Thy wise and guiding hand
More easily I stray.

Be near me, mighty Saviour,
When comes the latest strife;
For Thou hast thro’ death’s shadows pass’d,
And ope’d the gates of life;
And when among the ransom’d
I stand with crown and palm,
To Thee, Divine, unfailing Friend,
I’ll raise eternal psalm.

Rev. G. G. Lloyd

Friday, June 6, 2014

Tea and Tea Roses with I stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me and I must needs go home by the way of the cross

I stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me,
Confused at the grace that so fully He proffers me;
I tremble to know that for me He was crucified,
That for me a sinner, He suffer’d, He bled and died.

I marvel that He would descend from His throne divine,
To rescue a soul so rebellious and proud as mine;
That He should extend His great love unto such as I,
Sufficient to own, to redeem and to justify.

I think of His hands, pierc’d and bleeding to pay the debt!
Such mercy, such love and devotion can I forget?
No, no, I will praise and adore at the mercy-seat,
Until at the glorified throne I kneel at His feet.

Oh, it is wonderful that He should care for me,
Enough to die for me;
Oh, it is wonderful, wonderful to me.

Chas. H. Gabriel
I must needs go home by the way of the cross,
There’s no other way but this;
I shall ne’er get sight of the Gates of Light,
If the way of the cross I miss.

I must needs go on in the blood sprinkled way,
The path that the Savior trod,
If I ever climb to the heights sublime,
Where the soul is at home with God.

Then I bid farewell to the way of the world,
To walk in it never more;
For my Lord says, “Come,” and I seek my home,
Where He waits at the open door.

The way of the cross leads home,
The way of the cross leads home;
It is sweet to know, as I onward go,
The way of the cross leads home.

Jessie Brown Pounds

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Lily-of-the-Valley and with Fade, fade, each earthly joy and We’ve journey’d many a day

Fade, fade, each earthly joy,
Jesus is mine;
Break ev’ry tender tie,
Jesus is mine;
Dark is the wilderness,
Earth has no resting-place,
Jesus alone can bless,
Jesus is mine!

Tempt not my soul away,
Jesus is mine;
Here would I ever stay,
Jesus is mine;
Perishing things of clay,
Born but for one brief day,
Pass from my heart away,
Jesus is mine!

Farewell, ye dreams of night,
Jesus is mine;
Lost in this dawning light,
Jesus is mine;
All that my soul has tried,
Left but a dismal void,
Jesus hath satisfied,
Jesus is mine!

Farewell, mortality,
Jesus is mine;
Welcome, eternity,
Jesus is mine;
Welcome, oh, loved and blest,
Welcome, sweet scenes of rest,
Welcome, my Savior’s breast,
Jesus is mine!

Mrs. Catherine J. Bonar
We’ve journey’d many a day
Upon  an ocean wide,
Amid the mist and spray
Of many a surging tide;
But, lo! the land is near!
For just beyond the foam
I see it bright and clear,
The light of home, sweet home.

We’ve had our storms of doubt,
Our rains of bitter tears,
Our fightings fierce without,
Within our anxious fears;
But, lo! the storms are past,
They cannot reach us more;
We’ve sighted land at last,
The blessed stormless shore.

O land of calmest rest,
Where suns no more go down!
O haven of the blest,
With bliss and glory crown’d!
No more the storm, the dark,
The breakers and the foam,
No more the wail, for hark!
We hear the songs of home.

There’s a light upon the shore, brother,
It flashes from the stand;
The night is almost o’er, brother,
The haven’s just at hand.

Rev. Henry Burton, M. A.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Playing with Patterns with We’re over on the stormy side and Holy Bible, book divine

We’re over on the stormy side,
Dark clouds beset our way,
But just across the rolling tide
Beam shores of endless day.

There is another brighter side,
Of life beyond the sky,
Where sin and sorrow ne’er betide,
And loved ones never die.

Our journey here will soon be done,
We’ll enter into rest,
In yonder clime that needs no sun,
Repose on Jesus’ breast.

Soon I shall strike those harps of gold,
Where flowers immortal bloom,
My dear Redeemer’s face behold,
And calmly rest at home.

On the other side, beyond the rolling tide,
Jesus is waiting for me;
On the golden shore,
In the grand evermore,
Lov’d ones are watching for me.

Mrs. Emma Pitt
Holy Bible, book divine,
Precious treasure, thou art mine;
Mine to tell me whence I came,
Mine to tell me what I am;

Mine to chide me when I rove,
Mine to show a Savior’s love;
Mine thou art to guide and guard,
Mine to punish or reward;

Mine to comfort in distress,
Suff’ring in this wilderness;
Mine to show, by living faith,
Man can triumph over death;

Mine to tell of joys to come,
And the rebel sinner’s doom;
O thou holy book divine,
Precious treasure, thou art mine.

Mine, mine, book divine,
Precious treasure, thou art mine;
O thou holy book divine,
Precious treasure, thou art mine.

John Burton

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Depression Glass with My Father is rich in houses and lands and Awake, my soul, and with the sun

My Father is rich in houses and lands,
He holdeth the wealth of the world in His hands!
Of rubies and diamonds, of silver and gold;
His coffers are full, He has riches untold.

My Father’s own Son, the Savior of men,
Once wandered o’er earth as the poorest of them,
But now He is reigning forever on high,
And will give me a home in heav’n by and by.

I once was an outcast, stranger on earth,
A sinner by choice, and an alien by birth!
But I’ve been adopted, my name’s written down,
An heir to a mansion, a robe, and a crown.

A tent or a cottage, why should I care?
They’re building a palace for me over there!
Tho’ exiled from home, yet still I may sing;
All glory to God, I’m the child of a King.

I’m the child of a King,
The child of a King!
With Jesus, my Savior,
I’m a child of a King!

Hattie E. Buell
Awake, my soul, and with the sun
Thy daily stage of duty run;
Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise
To pay thy morning sacrifice.

Redeem thy misspent moments past;
And live this day is if thy last:
Improve thy talent with due care;
For the great Day thyself prepare.

Let all thy converse be sincere,
Thy conscience as the noonday clear;
Think how all seeing God thy ways
And all thy secret thoughts surveys.

Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart,
And with the angels bear thy part,
Who all night long unwearied sing
High praise to the eternal King.

All praise to Thee, Who safe hast kept
And hast refreshed me while I slept;
Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake,
I may of endless light partake.

Lord, I my vows to Thee renew;
Scatter my sins as morning dew;
Guard my first springs of thought and will,
And with Thyself my spirit fill.

Direct, control, suggest, this day,
All I design, or do, or say;
That all my powers, with all their might,
In Thy sole glory may unite.

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, angelic host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Thomas Ken

Monday, June 2, 2014

Fresh Eggs, Crockery and Walnuts with Depth of mercy! Can there be and O what a change! From the darkness of night

Depth of mercy!  Can there be
Mercy still reserved for me
Can my God His wrath forbear;
Me, the chief of sinners, spare?

I have long withstood His grace;
Long provoked Him to His face;
Would not hearken to His calls;
Grieved Him by a thousand falls.

Kindled His relentings are;
Me He now delights to spare;
Cries, How shall I give thee up?-
Lets the lifted thunder drop!

Now incline me to repent,
Let me now my fall lament;
Now my foul revolt deplore;
Weep, believe and sin no more.

There for me the Savior stands;
Shows the wounds within His hands;
God is love!  I know, I feel;
Jesus pleads and loves me still.

Charles Wesley
O what a change! From the darkness of night
Into the noontide of God’s shining light;
Out of my weakness to strength in His might,
O what a change! O what a change!

O what a change! From my hunger for bread
Into the place where His children are fed,
Into the blessing of life from the dead,
O what a change! O what a change!

O what a change! From my burden of care
Into the rest He invites me to share,
Into His joy from the sorrow I bear,
O what a change! O what a change!

O what a change in my heart there has been!
O what a change! O what a change!
O what a change, since the Savior came in!
O what a change! O what a change!

Mrs. C. D. Martin

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Lily-of-the-Valley and Phlox with On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand and What tho’ clouds are hov’ring o’er me

On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye,
To Canaan’s fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie.

All o’er those wide extended plains
Shines one eternal day;
There God, the Son, forever reigns,
And scatters night away.

No chilling winds, nor pois’nous breath,
Can reach that healthful shore;
Sickness and sorrow, pain and death,
Are felt and feared no more.

When shall I reach that happy place,
And be forever blest?
When shall I see my Father’s face,
And in His bosom rest?

I am bound for the promised land,
I am bound for the promised land;
O who will come and go with me?
I am bound for the promised land.

Samuel Stennett

What tho’ clouds are hov’ring o’er me,
And I seem to walk alone-
Longing ‘mid my cares and crosses,
For the joys that now are flown-
If I’ve Jesus, “Jesus only,”
Then my sky will have a gem;
He’s a Sun of brightest splendor,
And the Star of Bethlehem.

What tho’ all my earthly journey
Bringeth naught but weary hours,
And, in grasping for life’s roses,
Thorns I find instead of flow’rs-
If I’ve Jesus, “Jesus only,”
I possess a cluster rare;
He’s the “Lily of the Valley,”
And the “Rose of Sharon” fair.

What tho’ all my heart is yearning
For the lov’d of long ago-
Bitter lessons sadly learning
From the shadowy page of woe-
If I’ve Jesus, “Jesus only,”
He’ll be with me to the end;
And, unseen by mortal vision,
Angel bands will o’er me bend.

When I soar to realms of glory,
And an entrance I await,
If I whisper, “Jesus only!”
Wide will ope the pearly gate;
When I join the heavenly chorus,
And the angel hosts I see,
Precious Jesus, “Jesus only,”
Will my theme of rapture be.

Hattie M. Conrey