Jesus, I my cross have taken,
All to leave and follow Thee.
Destitute, despised, forsaken,
Thou from hence my all shalt be.
Perish ev'ry fond ambition,
All I've sought or hoped or known.
Yet how rich is my condition!
God and heav'n are still my own.
Let the world despise and leave me,
They have left my Savior too.
Human hearts and looks deceive me;
Thou art not, like them, untrue.
Oh, while Thou dost smile upon me,
God of wisdom, might, and power,
Foes may hate and friends disown me;
Show Thy face and all is bright.
Man may trouble and distress me,
'Twill but drive me to Thy breast.
Life with trials hard may press me;
Heav'n will bring me sweeter rest.
Oh, 'tis not in grief to harm me
While Thy love is left to me;
Oh, 'twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmixed with Thee.
Go, then, earthly fame and treasure,
Come disaster, scorn, and pain.
In Thy service, pain is pleasure,
With Thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called Thee, "Abba Father,"
I have stayed my heart on Thee.
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather;
All must work for good to me.
Soul, then know Thy full salvation;
Rise o'er sin and fear and care.
Joy to find in every station,
Something still to do or bear.
Think what Father dwells within thee,
Think that Jesus died for thee,
Child of heav'n, canst thou repine?
Haste thee on from grace to glory,
Armed by faith and winged by prayer.
Heav'n's eternal days before thee,
God's own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission,
Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days,
Hope shall change to glad fruition,
Faith to sight and prayer to praise.