My God, shall sin its power maintain,
And in my soul defiant live!
’Tis not enough that Thou forgive,
The cross must rise, and self be slain.
Then in my life Thy love reveal,—
As by The Christ Who bore the cross,
So by my sacrifice and loss,
And by the bitter pangs I feel.
O God of love, Thy love declare,—
’Tis not enough that Christ should die,
I too, with Him, in death must lie,
And in my death His anguish share.
Lord, is it nothing now, to Thee?—
Yea, it is much, that well I know,
For Thou hast memory of the woe
That filled Thy soul at Calvary.
And Thou wilt come with gracious aid,
When, burdened on the awful road,
I fall beneath the grievous load
Upon my fainting spirit laid.
Nor let me feel Thou hast no care,
Though arrows fly, and darkness fall;
Sin must be slain, but when I call
Thou art attentive to my prayer.
O God of love, Thy power disclose,—
’Tis not enough that Christ should rise,
I, too, must seek the brightening skies,
And rise from death, as Christ arose.
And from the cross, and to the grave
Descend; and when the morning breaks,
To life anew the soul awakes
That sin nor death shall e’er enslave.
The cross is love: the Christ’s, and mine;—
’Tis life to die, and death to live,
And not enough that God forgive,
If I would live the life divine.