Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul Part 43

--Henry F. Lyte.

CHOOSE THOU

Thy way, not mine, O Lord!

However dark it be; Lead me by Thine own hand, Choose out the path for me.

Smooth let it be, or rough, It will be still the best; Winding or straight it matters not, It leads me to Thy rest.

I dare not choose my lot, I would not if I might; Choose Thou for me, O G.o.d!

So shall I walk aright.

The kingdom that I seek Is Thine; so let the way That leads to it be thine Else I must surely stray.

Take Thou my cup, and it With joy or sorrow fill; As best to Thee may seem; Choose Thou my good or ill.

Choose Thou for me my friends My sickness or my health; Choose thou my cares for me, My poverty or wealth.

Not mine, not mine the choice In things or great or small; Be Thou my guide, my strength, My wisdom and my all.

--Horatius Bonar.

ONLY TO-DAY

Only to-day is mine, And that I owe to Thee; Help me to make it thine; As pure as it may be; Let it see something done, Let it see something won, Then at the setting sun I'll give it back to thee.

What if I cannot tell The cares the day may bring?

I know that I shall dwell Beneath Thy sheltering wing; And there the load is light; And there the dark is bright, And weakness turns to might, And so I trust and sing.

What shall I ask to-day?

Naught but Thine own sweet will; The windings of the way Lead to thy holy hill; And whether here or there Why should I fear or care?

Thy heavens are everywhere, And they are o'er me still.

Give me Thyself to-day, I dare not walk alone; Speak to me by the way, And "all things are my own"; The treasures of thy grace, The secret hiding place, The vision of thy face, The shadow of thy throne!

--Henry Burton.

THE OFFERING

No more my own, Lord Jesus, Bought with thy precious blood, I give thee but thine own, Lord, That long thy love withstood.

I give the life thou gavest, My present, future, past; My joys, my fears, my sorrows, My first hope and my last.

I give thee up my weakness That oft distrust hath bred, That thy indwelling power May thus be perfected.

I give the love the sweetest Thy goodness grants to me; Take it, and make it meet, Lord, For offering to thee.

Smile, and the very shadows In thy blest light shall s.h.i.+ne; Take thou my heart, Lord Jesus, For thou hast made it thine.

Thou knowest my soul's ambition, For thou hast changed its aim (The world's reproach I fear not) To share a Saviour's shame.

Outside the camp to suffer; Within the veil to meet, And hear Thy softest whisper From out the mercy-seat.

Thou bear'st me in thy bosom, Amidst thy jewels worn, Upon thy hands deep graven By arms of love upborne.

Rescued from sin's destruction, Ransomed from death and h.e.l.l; Complete in Thee, Lord Jesus: Thou hast done all things well.

Oh, deathless love that bought me!

Oh, price beyond my ken!

Oh, Life that hides my own life E'en from my fellow-men!

Now fas.h.i.+on, form and fill me With light and love divine; So, one with Thee, Lord Jesus, I'm thine--forever thine!

I IN THEE AND THOU IN ME

I am but clay in thy hands, but Thou art the all-loving artist; Pa.s.sive I lie in thy sight, yet in my self-hood I strive So to embody the life and the love thou ever impartest, That in my sphere of the finite I may be truly alive.

Knowing Thou needest this form, as I thy divine inspiration, Knowing thou shapest the clay with a vision and purpose divine, So would I answer each touch of thy hand in its loving creation, That in my conscious life thy power and beauty may s.h.i.+ne.

Reflecting the n.o.ble intent Thou hast in forming thy creatures; Waking from sense into life of the soul, and the image of thee; Working with thee in thy work to model humanity's features Into the likeness of G.o.d, myself from myself I would free.

One with all human existence, no one above or below me; Lit by Thy wisdom and love, as roses are steeped in the morn; Growing from clay to a statue, from statue to flesh, till thou know me Wrought into manhood celestial, and in thine image reborn.

So in thy love will I trust, bringing me sooner or later Past the dark screen that divides these shows of the finite from Thee.

Thine, thine only, this warm dear life, O loving Creator!

Thine the invisible future, born of the present, must be.

--Christopher Pea.r.s.e Cranch.

ON THEE MY HEART IS RESTING

On Thee my heart is resting: Ah! this is rest indeed!

What else, Almighty Saviour, Can a poor sinner need?

Thy light is all my wisdom, Thy love is all my stay; Our Father's home in glory Draws nearer every day.

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.