University of Virginia Library

XI. THE SAME.

Hymn 11.

[Help, gracious Lord, the time is come]

Help, gracious Lord, the time is come
Of suffering for Thy righteous cause,
I see, I see Thy people's doom,
To' endure with Thee the sacred cross,
And now my own convictions fear,
And tremble at the trial near.
The flesh, alas! Thou know'st is weak,
Nor can the lightest cross sustain,
Convinced, on earth I must not seek
A rescue from reproach, or pain,
Or put the hallow'd cup aside,
But bow with Jesus crucified.
Call'd to distress, and patient grief,
Have I not made Thy portion mine?
I have: I look for no relief,
No lessening of my lot Divine,
But hold Thy rigid literal word,
A simple follower of my Lord!
Let Jews their slightest wrong repay,
And fiercely eye for eye require:
More excellent the Christian way,
We will not call for vengeful fire,
Evil resist in word or deed,
But close in all Thy footsteps tread.

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Let others human succour seek,
With all their powers the cross evade,
We learn to turn the other cheek,
We look to Thee alone for aid;
In suffering all we cannot err,
We cannot follow Thee too far.
To suffer all things for Thy sake,
My calling this I humbly own;
Nor will from Thee the matter take,
But trust my cause to Thee alone:
My help is all laid up above,
My only refuge is Thy love.
The word, the awful word, is true,
Howe'er my feeble flesh may fail,
I should my patient Lord pursue,
The utmost rage of earth and hell,
Meek, as the Lamb of God endure,
And die to make my calling sure.