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20-Pack of Poetry Leaflets
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Enoch walked with God. Genesis 5:24
To walk with God! Ο fellowship divine!
Man's highest state on earth—Lord, be it mine!
With Thee may I a close communion hold,
To Thee the deep recesses of my heart unfold:
Yes, tell Thee all—each weary care and grief
Into Thy bosom pour, till there I find relief.
Oh! let me walk with Thee, Thou mighty One!
Lean on Thine arm, and trust Thy love alone;
With Thee hold converse sweet where'er I go;
Thy smile of love my highest bliss below:
With Thee transact life's business, doing all
With single aim for Thee, as Thou dost call:
My every comfort at Thy hand receive,
My every talent to Thy glory give.
Thy counsel seek in every trying hour,
In all my weakness trust Thy mighty power.
Oh! may this high companionship be mine,
And all my life by its reflection shine,
My great, my wise, my never-failing Friend,
Whose love no change can know, no turn, no end!
My Savior-God! who gave Thy life for me,
Let nothing come between my heart and Thee!
From Thee no thought, no secret would I keep,
But on Thy breast my tears of anguish weep,
My every wound to Thee I take to heal,
For Thou art touched with every pang I feel.
In Thee, and Thee alone, I now confide,
And Thee I'd follow, as my Lord and guide.
Earth's 'broken cisterns'—ah! they all have proved
Unsatisfying, vain, however loved;
The false will fail, the fondest they must go!
Oh! thus it is with all we love below.
From things of earth then let my heart be free,
And find its happiness, my Lord, in Thee.
Thy Holy Spirit for my Guide and Guest,
Whate'er my lot, I must be safe and blest;
Washed in Thy blood, from all my guilt made clean,
I in thy righteousness alone am seen.
Thy home, my home—Thy God and Father mine!
Dead to the world—my life is hid with Thine.
Its highest honors fade before my view—
Its pleasures, I can trample on them too.
With Thee, by faith I walk, in crowds, alone,
Making to Thee my wants and wishes known;
Drawing from Thee my daily strength in prayer,
Finding Thine arm sustains me everywhere;
While through the clouds of sin and woe, the light
Of coming glory shines more sweetly bright.
And this my daily boast, my aim, my end,
That my Redeemer is my God—my Friend!
From Songs in Sorrow and Songs of Joy
by Catherine Hartland Inglis, 1864