Jesus, I my cross have taken, all to leave and follow Thee;
Destitute, despised, forsaken, Thou from hence my all shall be;
Perish every fond ambition, all I've sought, and hoped or known;
Yet how rich is my condition, God and heaven 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 man, untrue;
And, while Thou shalt smile upon me, God of wisdom, love and might,
Foes may hate and friends may shun me; show Thy face and all is bright.
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 set my heart on Thee:
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, all must work for good to me.
Man may trouble and distress me, 'twill but drive me to Thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me, heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
O 'tis not in grief to harm me, while Thy love is left to me;
O 'twere not in joy to charm me, were that joy unmixed with Thee.
Hasten on from grace to glory, armed by faith, and winged by prayer;
Heaven's eternal day's before me, God's own hand shall guide me there.
Soon shall close my earthly mission, swift shall pass my pilgrim days;
Hope shall change to glad fruition, faith to sight, and prayer to praise.