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The Sympathy Of Jesus

( Originally Published Early 1900's )


I REST upon the ground
Of Jesus and his bood,
For 'tis through him that I have found
The true Eternal good.
Naught have I of my own,
Naught in the life I lead ;
What Christ bath given me, that alone
Is worth all ove indeed.

His Spirit in me dwells,
O'er all my mind he reigns,
All care and sadness he dispels,
And soothes away all pains.
He prospers day by day
His work within my heart,
Till I have strength and faith to say,
Thou, God, my Father art !

When weakness on me lies
And tempts me to despair,
He speaketh words and utters sighs
Of more than mortal prayer;
But what no tongue can tell,
Thou, God, canst hear and see,
Who readest in the heart full
well If aught there pleaseth thee.

He whispers in my breast
Sweet words of holy cheer,
How he who seeks in God his rest
Shall ever find him near ;
How God bath built above
A city fair and new,
Where eye and heart shall see and prove
What faith has counted true.

There is prepared on high
My heritage, my lot ;
Though here on earth I fall and die,
My heaven shall fail me not.
Though here my days are dark,
And loft my tears must rain,
Whene'er my Saviour's light I mark,
All things grow bright again.

My heart for gladness springs,
It cannot more be sad,
For every joy it laughs and sings,
Sees naught but sunshine glad.
The sun that glads mine eyes
Is Christ the Lord I ove;
I sing for joy of that which lies
Stored up for us above.

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