What fills my soul with gladness? 'Tis thine abounding grace! Where can I look in sadness, But, Jesus, in thy face? My all is thy providing; Thy love can ne'er grow cold; In thee, my refuge, hiding, No good wilt thou withhold. Why should I droop in sorrow? Thou'rt ever by my side: Why, trembling, dread the morrow? What ill can e'er betide? If I my cross have taken, 'Tis but to follow thee; If scorned, despised, forsaken, Naught severs me from thee! Oh, worldly pomp and glory! Your charms are spread in vain! I've heard a sweeter story, I've found a truer gain! Where Christ a place prepareth, There is my loved abode; There shall I gaze on Jesus, There shall I dwell with God! For every tribulation, For every sore distress, In Christ I've full salvation, Sure help, and quiet rest. No fear of foes prevailing! I triumph, Lord, in thee! O Jesus! Friend unfailing! How dear art thou to me! THE SONG OF A HEATHEN (Sojourning in Galilee, A. D. 32) If Jesus Christ is a man-- And only a man--I say That of all mankind I cleave to him, And to him will I cleave alway. If Jesus Christ is a God-- And the only God--I swear I will follow him through heaven and hell, The earth, the sea, the air. --Richard Watson Gilder. "IT IS TOWARD EVENING" Abide with me, O Christ; thou must not go For life's brief day is now far down the west; In dark'ning clouds my sun is sinking low; Lord, stay and soothe thy fretted child to rest. Abide with me; ere I can fall on sleep My throbbing head must on thy breast recline, That I may hear anew thy voice, and feel The thrill of thy pierced hands in touch with mine. Abide with me; so then shall I have peace The world can never give nor take from me; Nor life nor death can that calm peace disturb, Since life and death alike are gain through thee. If life, 'tis well; for though in paths of pain, In desert place afar, I'm led aside, Yet here 'tis joy my Master's cup to share; And so I pray, O Christ, with me abide. 'Tis gain if death; for in that far-off land-- No longer far--no veil of flesh will dim For me the wondrous beauty of my King, As he abides with me and I with him. Abide with me; I have toiled gladly on, A little while, in stir of care and strife; The task is laid aside at thy command, Make thou it perfect with thy perfect life. THE BLESSED FACE Jesus, these eyes have never seen That radiant form of thine; The veil of sense hangs dark between Thy blessed face and mine. I see thee not, I hear thee not, Yet art thou oft with me; And earth hath ne'er so dear a spot As where I meet with thee.