“Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ,” 1 Cor. 15:57.
Choose for me, Lord! the time is wearing fast,
And sure I am to be with thee at last:
But, whether as a sleeping one to rise,
Or, living, wait to meet thee in the skies;
Thou knowest, Lord—my heart can leave with thee
The ordering of my lot, whate’er it be.
If death thy purposed way, e’en death is mine,
Since I am “Christ’s”—Oh! power of love divine!
The Lord of life through death destroyed my foe,
That I His full deliverance now might know.
Still as a stone the enemy shall be,
While I pass through the waterfloods to thee.
But, Lord, I’ll need thee when the billows swell:
My mortal frame—thou knowest it full well:
Need thee I do in all things—who but thou
Could have upheld and succored me till now?
Yet, poor and needy howsoe’er I be,
The Lord my Savior thinketh upon me.
Thou art my life, my everlasting stay,
And canst thou fail when heart and flesh give way?
Not only peace, but victory, thou dost give
To all who simply on thy name believe.
No more the king of terrors—death shall be
A servant to conduct my soul to thee.
Let but my heart be conscious thou art nigh,
Nor ever let me turn from thee mine eye,
Till, as the purchase of thy precious blood,
That brought me once, a guilty one, to God,
Th’ appointed moment come, up springing free,
My happy spirit finds its home with thee.
Nor shall thy triumph be imperfect, Lord;
My sleeping dust shall hear thy quickening word;
Filled up the deep desire of every heart,
When, like to thee, we see thee as thou art!
Lord Jesus, come! and take thy saints, to be
Forever in the Father’s house with thee!
C. G.