Great is my guilt, but greater The mercy Thou dost give; Thyself, a spotless offering, Hast died that I should live. With Thee my soul unfettered Has risen from the dust; Thy blood is all my treasure; Thy word is all my trust. Through me, thou gentle Master, Thy purposes fulfill: I yield myself forever To thy most holy will. What though I be but weakness My strength is not in me; The poorest of thy people Has all things, having Thee. When clouds are darkest round me, Thou, Lord, art then most near, My drooping faith to quicken, My weary soul to cheer. Safe nestling in thy bosom, I gaze upon thy face. In vain my foes would drive me From Thee, my hiding-place. 'Tis Thou hast made me happy; 'Tis thou hast set me free. To whom shall I give glory Forever but to Thee! Of earthly love and blessing Should every stream run dry, Thy grace shall still be with me-- Thy grace to live and die! --Theodore Monod. WHOM HAVE I IN HEAVEN BUT THEE? I love, and have some cause to love, the earth; She is my Maker's creature, therefore good; She is my mother, for she gave me birth; She is my tender nurse, she gives me food; But what's a creature, Lord, compared with Thee? Or what's my mother or my nurse to me? The highest honors that the world can boast Are subjects far too low for my desire; The brightest beams of glory are, at most, But dying sparkles of thy living fire; The proudest flames that earth can kindle be But nightly glowworms if compared to Thee. Without thy presence, wealth are bags of cares; Wisdom, but folly; joy, disquiet, sadness; Friendship is treason, and delights are snares; Pleasure's but pain, and mirth but pleasing madness: Without Thee, Lord, things be not what they be, Nor have their being when compared with Thee. In having all things, and not Thee, what have I? Not having Thee, what have my labors got? Let me enjoy but Thee, what further crave I? And having Thee alone, what have I not? I wish nor sea nor land; nor would I be Possess'd of heaven, heaven unpossess'd of thee. --Francis Quarles. Only for Jesus! Lord, keep it ever Sealed on the heart, and engraved on the life; Pulse of all gladness, and nerve of endeavor, Secret of rest and the strength of our strife. --Frances Ridley Havergal. SINCE FIRST THY WORD AWAKED MY HEART Since first thy word awaked my heart, Like new life dawning o'er me, Where'er I turn my eyes, Thou art All light and love before me. Nought else I feel or hear or see, All bonds of earth I sever, Thee, O God, and only thee, I live for now and ever.