The Vision of Prophecy and Other Poems By James D. Burns ... Second Edition |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
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| X. |
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| XIX. |
| XX. | XX. |
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| XXIII. |
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| XXV. |
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| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
 | The Vision of Prophecy and Other Poems |  |
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XX.
“He abideth faithful.”—2 Tim. ii. 13.
Friends I love may die or leave me,
Friends I trust may treacherous prove,
But Thou never wilt deceive me,
O my Saviour! in Thy love.
Change can ne'er this union sever,
Death its links may never part,—
Yesterday, to-day, for ever,
Thou the same Redeemer art.
Friends I trust may treacherous prove,
But Thou never wilt deceive me,
O my Saviour! in Thy love.
Change can ne'er this union sever,
Death its links may never part,—
Yesterday, to-day, for ever,
Thou the same Redeemer art.
On the cross love made Thee bearer
Of transgressions not Thine own;
And that love still makes Thee sharer
In our sorrows on the throne.
From Thy glory Thou art bending
Still on earth a pitying eye,
And, 'mid angels' songs ascending,
Hearest every mourner's cry.
Of transgressions not Thine own;
And that love still makes Thee sharer
In our sorrows on the throne.
From Thy glory Thou art bending
Still on earth a pitying eye,
And, 'mid angels' songs ascending,
Hearest every mourner's cry.
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In the days of worldly gladness,
Cold and proud our hearts may be,
But to whom, in fear and sadness,
Can we go but unto Thee?
From that depth of gloom and sorrow
Where thy love to man was shown,
Every bleeding heart may borrow
Hope and strength to bear its own.
Cold and proud our hearts may be,
But to whom, in fear and sadness,
Can we go but unto Thee?
From that depth of gloom and sorrow
Where thy love to man was shown,
Every bleeding heart may borrow
Hope and strength to bear its own.
Though the cup I drink be bitter,
Yet since Thou hast made it mine,
This Thy love will make it sweeter
Than the world's best mingled wine.
Darker days may yet betide me,
Sharper sorrows I may prove;
But the worst will ne'er divide me,
O my Saviour! from Thy love.
Yet since Thou hast made it mine,
This Thy love will make it sweeter
Than the world's best mingled wine.
Darker days may yet betide me,
Sharper sorrows I may prove;
But the worst will ne'er divide me,
O my Saviour! from Thy love.
| The Vision of Prophecy and Other Poems | |