Master! we would no longer be
At home in that which hated Thee,
But patient in Thy footsteps go,
Thy sorrow as Thy joy to know;
We would—and, oh, confirm the power—
With meekness meet the darkest hour,
By shame, contempt, however tried,
For Thou wast scorned and crucified.
We welcome still Thy faithful word—
"The cross shall meet its sure reward";
For soon must pass the "little while,"
Then joy shall crown Thy servants' toil:
And we shall hear Thee, Saviour, say,
"Arise, My love, and come away;
Look up, for thou shalt weep no more,
But rest on heaven's eternal shore."