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The Cross
Raised on high, above the city,
Oft I see the sacred cross;
Telling of the Savior's sufferings,
Borne for men with shame and loss!
Oft I see the sacred cross;
Telling of the Savior's sufferings,
Borne for men with shame and loss!
When amidst its streets I wander,
And its tempting pleasures seek;
From the cross a strength there cometh,
And no longer I am weak.
And its tempting pleasures seek;
From the cross a strength there cometh,
And no longer I am weak.
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When I covet others' honors,
Wish their wealth, or homes were mine;
Then the cross uplifts my spirit,
And no longer I repine.
Wish their wealth, or homes were mine;
Then the cross uplifts my spirit,
And no longer I repine.
When I murmur faint, and weary,
Grow impatient at my lot;
Then I look upon the symbol,
And my sufferings are forgot.
Grow impatient at my lot;
Then I look upon the symbol,
And my sufferings are forgot.
When of good of men I labor,
Yet for this I suffer wrong;
Then the cross its lesson teaches,
Then, though weak, I yet am strong.
Yet for this I suffer wrong;
Then the cross its lesson teaches,
Then, though weak, I yet am strong.
Then, the outward cross doth vanish,
From my eye and from my thought;
And, all glorified, my Savior
To my mind again is brought!
From my eye and from my thought;
And, all glorified, my Savior
To my mind again is brought!
Not as when he bore his anguish,
Hanging on the accursed tree;
But, as raised above all passion,
Doth the Savior come to me;
Hanging on the accursed tree;
But, as raised above all passion,
Doth the Savior come to me;
And another life I enter,
With its peace before unknown;
And, with countless tribes and nations,
Stand confessed before the throne.
With its peace before unknown;
And, with countless tribes and nations,
Stand confessed before the throne.
Poem No. 404; c. September 1860
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