« Prev Dear Savior of a dying world Next »
94

HYMN 29

C. M.

A RESURRECTION HYMN.

“The Lord is risen.”

Dear Savior of a dying world,

Where grief and change must be,

In the new grave where Thou wast laid

My heart lies down with Thee.

O, not in cold despair of joy,

Or weariness of pain,

But from a hope that shall not die,

To rise and live again.

I would arise in all Thy strength

My place on earth to fill,

To work out all my time of war

With love's unflinchng will.

Firm against every doubt of Thee

For all my future way —

To walk in Heaven's eternal light

Throughout the changing day.

Ah, such a day as Thou shalt own

When suns have ceased to shine

A day of burdens borne by Thee,

And work that all was Thine.

Speed Thy bright rising in my heart,

Thy righteous kingdom speed, —

Till my whole life in concord say,

“The Lord is risen indeed.”

O for an impulse from Thy love

With every coming breath,

To sing that sweet undying song

Amid the wrecks of death!

A “hail!” to every mortal pang

That bids me take my right

To glory in the blessed life

Which Thou hast brought to light.

I long to see the hallowed earth

In new creation rise,

To find the germs of Eden hid

Where its fallen beauty lies, —

To feel the spring–tide of a soul

By one deep love set free,

Made meet to lay aside her dust

And be at home with Thee.

And then — there shall be yet an end —

An end now full to bless!

How dear to those who watch for Thee

With human tenderness.

Then shall the saying come to pass

That makes our hope complete,

And, rising from the conquered grave,

Thy parted ones shall meet.

Yes — they shall meet, and face to face

By heart to heart be known,

Clothed with Thy Likeness, Lord of Life,

And perfect in their own.

For this corruptible must rise

From its corruption free,

And this frail mortal must put on

Thine immortality.

Shine then, Thou Resurrection Light,

Upon our sorrows shine!

The fulness of Thy joy be ours,

As all our griefs were Thine.

Now in this changing, dying life

Our faded hopes restore,

Till, in Thy triumph perfected,

We taste of death no more.

« Prev Dear Savior of a dying world 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 |