« Prev XXI: Thou art my Hope, O Christ my Lord Next »

80

XXI

8,8,8,8

Thou art my Hope, O Christ my Lord,

Inspiring, bright, and full of cheer;

Clouds deck themselves with silver sheen

And gloom departs when Thou art near.

No burden rests to crush my soul,

For Thou art wings wherewith to rise;

And from the care of life I soar

To realms of peace, with cloudless skies.

When backward on my path of life

I cast my vision with alarm,

Where spectres grim my footsteps dog,

With one intent,--to do me harm.

I lift mine eyes to where Thou art,

O Christ my Hope, and lo! Thy cheer,

Comes like the morning to my soul,

To scatter dread, and banish fear.

For to Thy Cross my sins are nailed,

And from Thy tomb I deathless rise,

Borne on the wings of living hope

Inspired by Thy great Sacrifice.

Thou art my Hope, O Christ my Lord,

In life, in death, to ages long;

And when her Hope my soul hath won,

Thou, Christ, shalt be my endless song.

« Prev XXI: Thou art my Hope, O Christ my Lord Next »
Please login or register to save highlights and make annotations
Corrections disabled for this book
Proofing disabled for this book
Printer-friendly version





Advertisements



| Define | Popups: Login | Register | Prev Next | Help |