THE SWISS REFORMER.
“Ma porte s'ouvre,
Et c'est la Mort;
Ta main me couvre,
Mon Dieu, mon fort.”
I HEAR loud knocking at my door:
It opes. 'Tis Death! He stands before
My startled sight; that dreaded foe
Against me bends his fatal bow.
My shield, almighty Savior, be,
With Thy strong hand still cover me.
For me, O Jesus, Thou hast died:
For me, Thou once wast crucified:
Death Thou hast tasted for my sake:
Thy wounded hand stretch forth, and break
That sword which sorely pierces me,-
My tortured soul I cast on Thee.
Lord, not my will, but Thine be done!
If, in my life's meridian sun,
When girded 'gainst the gates of hell,
Thy flock to guard, Thy truth to tell,
Thy voice's call from earth I hear,-
Behold me, Jesus, I am here.
For if I die, I still am Thine,
The purchase of Thy love divine
Living I wish to live for Thee:
Dying, Thy own I still shall be,
And through the marvels of Thy grace,
Depart to see Thee face to face.
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I call. Alas! I call in vain....
He hears not, while I thus complain:
My ills increase; with deeper gloom
Before me, nearer yawns the tomb;
And all my sins in black array
Affright with anguish and dismay.
Death nearer draws. His breath I feel,
My vision fails; my senses reel;
My voice expires; the stifling breath,
And icy, clammy grasp of death
Body, and mind, and soul benumb;...
O Savior, help-my hour is come
Sin, death, and hell are marshalled here,
They crush with overwhelming fear;
Their fiery darts, like storms of hail,
My conscience and my faith assail;
I hear the devil's taunting cry,
“Soul, thou art mine."-Lord, must I die?
=============================
The conflict 's past; my foes are fled;
Death, sin, and hell have vanished:
Before His cross I laid me down;
With Jesus I was left alone:
His blood has made my terrors cease,
His voice has hushed my soul to peace.