Sunflowers and Come on, my partners in distress and And is it so-I shall be like Thy Son

  Come on, my partners in distress,
My comrades through the wilderness,
  Who still your bodies feel;
Awhile forget your griefs and fears,
And look beyond this vale of tears,
  To that celestial hill.

  Beyond the bounds of time and space,
Look forward to that heavenly place,
  The saints’ secure abode;
On faith’s strong eagle pinions rise,
And force your passage to the skies,
  And scale the mount of God.

  Who suffer with our Master here,
We shall before his face appear
  And by his side sit down;
To patient faith the prize is sure,
And all that to the end endure
  The cross, shall wear the crown.

  Thrice blessed, bliss-inspiring hope!
It lifts the fainting spirits up,
  It brings to life the dead:
Our conflicts here shall soon be past,
And you and I ascend at last,
  Triumphant with our Head.

  That great mysterious Deity
We soon with open face shall see;
  The beatific sight
Shall fill the heavenly courts with praise,
And wide diffuse the golden blaze
  Of everlasting light.
                      Charles Wesley

And is it so-I shall be like Thy Son?
Is this the grace which He for me has won?
Father of glory, (thought beyond all thought!)
In glory, to His own blest likeness brought!

Oh, Jesus, Lord, who loved me like to Thee?
Fruit of Thy work, with Thee, too, there to see
Thy glory, Lord, while endless ages roll,
Myself the prize and travail of Thy soul.

Yet it must be:  Thy love had not its rest
Were Thy redeemed not with Thee fully blest,
That love that gives not as the world, but shares
All it possesses with its loved co-heirs.

Nor I alone; Thy loved ones, all complete
In glory, round Thee there with joy shall meet,-
All like Thee, for Thy glory like Thee, Lord,
Object supreme of all, by all adored.
     J. N. Darby