Having Jesus, all is mine—
Gift unspeakable, divine!
Rich am I beyond all care,
Richer than a millionaire.
Poor is he whose wealth’s his all—
Poor when ‘neath the funeral pall:
Not a great can he take o’er—
O, how stript when here no more!
Dark and dismal must it be
Thus to face eternity:
Naught to calm the dread-struck heart,
Naught to “cool” a little part.
Take “true riches” while you may,
Come to Jesus, don’t delay;
He is rich beyond degree,
Take salvation, full and free.
Then confess that holy one;
Ever tell what He has done;
Live to “Him who died and rose,”
Till thy pilgrim days shall close.
Soon the blissful day will come—
He will call His ransomed home:
Thou wilt be, when welcomed there,
Richer than a billionaire.