“The name of the one was Gershom; for he said, I have been an alien in a strange land.' "-Exodus
18:3.
A stranger here, a Gershomite by grace,
Because in heaven is now my name and place
Called from above, a heavenly man by birth
(Who once was but a citizen of earth),
A pilgrim here, I seek a heavenly home
And portion in the ages yet to come,
Where-all the saints of every clime shall meet,
And each, with all, shall all the ransomed greet;
But oh, the height of bliss, my Lord, shall be,
To owe it all and share it all with Thee!
Thou art "the Image," in man's lowly guise,
Of the invisible to mortal eyes;
Come from His bosom, from the heavens above,
We see in Thee incarnate, ", God is love
Thy lips the Father's name to us reveal:
What burning power in all Thy words we feel,
When to our raptured hearts we hear Thee tell
The heavenly glories known by Thee so well!
The prophet, not of law, but sovereign grace,
What glory shines in Thy unveiled face!
Unlike to him, whose countenance severe
Made the beholders shrink with slavish fear,—
Thou cost attract the wretched and the weak,
Thy joy the wand'rers and the lost to seek.
Physician of sick souls, Thy skill divine
Heals the most desperate cases-such as mine.
The leper fears not to approach Thy feet,
The publicans and harlots welcome meet:
“ Whosoever will," Thy all-inviting word;
" Whosoever will," -I come, most gracious Lord;
The Bread of Life, the living waters give:—
Lord, I believe, I drink, I feed, I live!
And oh, Thou art the Lamb, the Holy One:
I see Thee on the cross for sin atone;
That precious stream of water and of blood,
Which from Thy opened side so freely flowed,
Has put away my sins of scarlet dye,
And washed my every stain, and brought me nigh;
So clean, that through the veil I enter in,
For there Thy blood appears, and not my sin.
And Thou art now my great High Priest on high,
No more like Aaron's carnal line to die:
The Lord has sworn that Thou His Priest shall be
Through the long ages of eternity,—
The King of Righteousness, the King of Peace;
We upward look and all our terrors cease.
Our names are on Thy shoulders and Thy heart;
Thou hast been tempted, and with faithful art
Thou dost the succor grant that now we need,
As on our weary way, Thy saints proceed:
There's not one step of all the desert road,
There's not a sorrow, or a heavy load,
But with a human heart and pitying eyes,
Thou dost in tenderest mercy sympathize.
I am a stranger here; I do not crave
A home on earth, that gave Thee but a grave
I wish not now its jewels to adorn
My brows, which gave Thee but a crown of thorn.
Thy cross has severed ties which bound me here,—
Thyself my treasure in a heavenly sphere.
No earthly city (by man's labor built,
Whose greatness is but congregated guilt;
Where mammon holds its toiling myriads bound,
And sordid slaves are pleasure's votaries found;
In whose foul streets walk closely, side by side,
Most abject want and rank luxurious pride;
Where self reigns lord in temple, hall and mart)
Has now, a hold on my enfranchised heart.
A freed man now, whom truth indeed makes free,
There's no continuing city here for dime;
A city yet to come, with longing eyes
I now am seeking, built above the skies;
Whose strong foundations God Himself has laid,
Like a fair bride in whitest robes arrayed.
Without the camp-where Christ was crucified,
And the Sin-offering for His people died,
To sanctify them from this world below,—
To Him, and His reproach, I gladly go;
For all, compared With Him, 1-dross, esteem,
My one desire is to be found in Him.