Rest him, O loving Spirit! Let Thy calm Fall on his soul to-night. O holy Dove, Spread Thy bright wing above him, let him rest Beneath its shadow; let him know afresh The infinite truth and might of Thy dear name-- "Our Comforter!" As gentlest touch will stay The strong vibrations of a jarring chord, So lay Thy hand upon his heart, and still Each overstraining throb, each pulsing pain.
Then, in the stillness, breathe upon the strings, And let thy holy music overflow With soothing power his listening, resting soul.
A Song in the Night.
[Written in severe pain, Sunday afternoon, October 8th, 1876, at the Pension Wengen, Alps.]
I take this pain, Lord Jesus, From Thine own hand, The strength to bear it bravely Thou wilt command.
I am too weak for effort, So let me rest, In hush of sweet submission, On Thine own breast.
I take this pain, Lord Jesus, As proof indeed That Thou art watching closely My truest need;
That Thou, my Good Physician, Art watching still; That all Thine own good pleasure Thou wilt fulfil.
I take this pain, Lord Jesus; What Thou dost choose The soul that really loves Thee Will not refuse.
It is not for the first time I trust to-day; For Thee my heart has never A trustless "Nay!"
I take this pain, Lord Jesus; But what beside?
"Tis no unmingled portion Thou dost provide.
In every hour of faintness My cup runs o"er With faithfulness and mercy, And love"s sweet store.
I take this pain, Lord Jesus, As Thine own gift; And true though tremulous praises I now uplift.
I am too weak to sing them, But Thou dost hear The whisper from the pillow, Thou art so near!
"Tis Thy dear hand, O Saviour, That presseth sore, The hand that bears the nail-prints For evermore.
And now beneath its shadow, Hidden by Thee, The pressure only tells me Thou lovest me!
What will You do without Him?
I could not do without Him!
Jesus is more to me Than all the richest, fairest gifts Of earth could ever be.
But the more I find Him precious-- And the more I find Him true-- The more I long for you to find What He can be to you.
You need not do without Him, For He is pa.s.sing by, He is waiting to be gracious, Only waiting for your cry: He is waiting to receive you-- To make you all His own!
Why will you do without Him, And wander on alone?
Why will you do without Him?
Is He not kind indeed?
Did He not die to save you?
Is He not all you need?
Do you not want a Saviour?
Do you not want a Friend?
One who will love you faithfully, And love you to the end?
Why will you do without Him?
The Word of G.o.d is true!
The world is pa.s.sing to its doom-- And you are pa.s.sing too.
It may be no to-morrow Shall dawn on you or me; Why will you run the awful risk Of all eternity?
What will you do without Him, In the long and dreary day Of trouble and perplexity, When you do not know the way, And no one else can help you, And no one guides you right, And hope comes not with morning, And rest comes not with night?
You could not do without Him, If once He made you see The fetters that enchain you, Till He hath set you free.
If once you saw the fearful load Of sin upon your soul; The hidden plague that ends in death, Unless He makes you whole!
What will you do without Him, When death is drawing near?
Without His love--the only love That casts out every fear; When the shadow-valley opens, Unlighted and unknown, And the terrors of its darkness Must all be pa.s.sed alone!
What will you do without Him, When the great white throne is set, And the Judge who never can mistake, And never can forget,-- The Judge whom you have never here As Friend and Saviour sought, Shall summon you to give account Of deed and word and thought?
What will you do without Him, When He hath shut the door, And you are left outside, because You would not come before?
When it is no use knocking, No use to stand and wait; For the word of doom tolls through your heart That terrible "Too late!"
You cannot do without Him!
There is no other name By which you ever _can_ be saved, No way, no hope, no claim!
Without Him--everlasting loss Of love, and life, and light!
Without Him--everlasting woe, And everlasting night.
But with Him--oh! _with Jesus_!
Are any words so blest?
With Jesus, everlasting joy And everlasting rest!
With Jesus--all the empty heart Filled with His perfect love; With Jesus--perfect peace below, And perfect bliss above.
Why should you do without Him?
It is not yet too late; He has not closed the day of grace, He has not shut the gate.
He calls you! hush! He calls you!
He would not have you go Another step without Him, Because He loves you so.
Why will you do without Him?
He calls and calls again-- "Come unto Me! Come unto Me!"
Oh, shall He call in vain?
He wants to have you with Him; Do you not want Him too?
You cannot do without Him, And He wants--even you.
Church Missionary Jubilee Hymn.