We would see Jesus--other lights are paling Which for long years we have rejoiced to see; The blessings of our pilgrimage are failing-- We would not mourn them, for we come to thee. We would see Jesus--yet the spirit lingers Round the dear object it has loved so long, And earth from earth will scarce unclose its fingers, Our love for thee makes not this love less strong. We would see Jesus--the strong Rock-foundation Whereon our feet are set by sovereign grace; Not life or death, with all their agitation, Can thence remove us if we seek his face. We would see Jesus--sense is all too blinding, And heaven appears too dim and far away; We would see Jesus--to gain the sweet reminding That thou hast promised our great debt to pay. We would see Jesus--that is all we're needing, Strength, joy, and willingness come with the sight; We would see Jesus--dying, risen, pleading-- Then welcome day, and farewell mortal night! --Anna B. Warner. A SONG OF LOVE To thee, O dear, dear Saviour! My spirit turns for rest; My peace is in thy favor, My pillow on thy breast; Though all the world deceive me, I know that I am thine, And thou wilt never leave me, O blessed Saviour mine! In thee my trust abideth, On thee my hope relies, O thou whose love provideth For all beneath the skies! O thou whose mercy found me, From bondage set me free, And then forever bound me With threefold cords to thee! My grief is in the dullness With which this sluggish heart Doth open to the fullness Of all thou wouldst impart; My joy is in thy beauty Of holiness divine, My comfort in the duty That binds my life to thine. Alas! that I should ever Have fail'd in love to thee, The only One who never Forgot or slighted me. O for a heart to love thee More truly as I ought, And nothing place above thee In deed, or word, or thought. O for that choicest blessing Of living in thy love, And thus on earth possessing The peace of heaven above! O for the bliss that by it The soul securely knows, The holy calm and quiet Of faith's serene repose! --John Samuel Bewley Monsell. THE UNFAILING FRIEND O Jesus! Friend unfailing, How dear art thou to me! Are cares and fears assailing? I find my strength in thee! Why should my feet grow weary Of this my pilgrim way? Rough though the path, and dreary, It ends in perfect day. Naught, naught I count as treasure; Compared, O Christ, with thee! Thy sorrow without measure Earned peace and joy for me. I love to own, Lord Jesus, Thy claims o'er me and mine; Bought with thy blood most precious, Whose can I be but thine?