Some call Him a Saviour, in word,
But mix their own works with His plan,
And hope He His help will afford
When they have done all that they can;
If doing proved rather too light
(A little they own they may fail),
They purpose to make up full weight
By casting His name in the scale.
Some style Him the Pearl of great price,
And say He is the fountain of joys,
Yet feed upon folly and vice,
And cleave to the world and its toys -
Like Judas, the Saviour they kiss,
And, while they salute Him, betray -
Ah, what will profession like this
Avail in His terrible day!
If asked what of Jesus I think,
Though all my best thoughts are but poor,
I say, He’s my meat and my drink,
My life, and my strength, and my store;
My Shepherd, my Husband, my Friend,
My Saviour from sin and from thrall,
My hope from beginning to end,
My portion, my Lord and my All.
J. G. Bellett