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Thursday, July 10, 2014

Cosmos with She loved her Saviour, and to him and He leadeth me! oh! blessed thought

  She loved her Saviour, and to him
  Her costliest present brought;
To crown his head, or grace his name,
  No gift too rare she thought.

  So let the Saviour be adored,
  And not the poor despised;
Give to the hungry from your hoard,
  But all, give all to Christ.

  Go, clothe the naked, lead the blind,
  Give to the weary rest;
For sorrow’s children comfort find,
  And help for all distressed;

  But give to Christ alone thy heart,
  Thy faith, thy love supreme;
Then for his sake thine alms impart,
  And so give all to him.

William CutterHe leadeth me! oh! blessed thought,
Oh! words with heav’nly comfort fraught;
Whate’er I do, where’er I be,
Still ‘tis God’s hand that leadeth me.

Sometimes ‘mid scenes of deepest gloom,
Sometimes where Eden’s bowers bloom,
By waters still, o’er troubled sea,-
Still ‘tis God’s hand that leadeth me.

Lord, I would clasp Thy hand in mine,
Nor ever murmur nor repine-
Content, whatever lot I see,
Since ‘tis my God that leadeth me.

And when my task on earth is done,
When, by Thy grace, the victory’s won,
E’en death’s cold wave I will not flee,
Since God through Jordan leadeth me.

He leadeth me!  He leadeth me!
By His own hand He leadeth me;
His faithful follower I would be,
For by His hand He leadeth me.

Jos. H. Gilmore

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