Pressing Forward

Philippians 3  •  2 min. read  •  grade level: 3
From every terror shelter'd by the cross,
Free, disentangled from all earthly things;
Most gladly laying all aside as dross,
That I might soar with unimpeded wings,
Through faith's dominions, where no moth corrupts
The peerless treasure-store, laid up for me;
Where no rude blast of this life interrupts
The soul's communings, blessed Lord, with Thee.
Amid the tumults of this wilderness,.
How calm, how happy dost Thou keep my soul;
But more of Thee I'd know, still closer press,
And hasten forward to my heavenly goal.
Oh! may it be my daily joy to tell,
That I, by nature such a worthless thing,
Am by Thy grace, not only saved from hell,
But made a child, co-heir, a priest, and king,
A worshipper and witness—here I fall, And
And own my failure, with the church of God:
How weak our testimony, after all
The grace and patient care on us bestow'd
Well may we long for the eventful day,
(While mourning o'er our manifested dearth)
When Thou shalt have the universal sway,
And reign in glory o'er a ransomed earth!
"A weight of glory! "—what a sweet relief,
Amidst the sufferings of this present time;
Well may we call our light afflictions brief,
As we compare the joys of yonder clime.
The bodies changed—the fashioning Thine own,
According to the working of Thy power;
And Thou, who wrought redemption's work alone,
Wilt bring us safely to the promised hour.
"A weight of glory!"—what a scene of bliss
Lies stretched before my soul, in light divine—
But, oh, the sweetest of my joy is this:
The Lord and center of it all, is mine!
As on the threshold of another year I stand,
And joyously look upward through the gloom
Which canopies the earth on every hand,
My fervent spirit cries,—“LORD JESUS, COME!"