From The Cross to The Crown

 

Hark to the Master's voice so sweetly calling,

"Come, follow Me

O'er the dim moorland, where the dews are falling,

O'er hill and lees

Forsake for Me thy dear familiar places,

Thy father's shelter'd house, thy cherished beding placed,

Out in the stormy night,

Far from the warmth and light.

I have a cross for thee.

Arise! for in the East the dawn is breaking,

And come away,

My burden on thy shoulders meekly taking,

Nor even stay

Kiss once more through blinding tears they dearest,

O' clasp with bleeding, breaking heart thy nearest,

Hands must unloose their hold.

Earth's joys grow faint and cold--

I will be all to thee.

Have I not trod life's bitter road before thee

With bleeding feet,

Bearing alone the Cross that shineth oer thee

With message sweet?

For thy sake have I wander'd faint and weary

Thro crowed city ways and deserts dreary,

High on the mountain bare

Thro' the long nights of prayer

Have I not thought of thee?

When night is darkest and the way seems longest

Press onward still,

Striving in thickest fight when foes are strongest

To do My will.

Look not behind thee to thy soul's undoings

Urge on thy footsteps faint, yet still pursuing.

When clouds above thee dose

Whisper to me thy woes--

Am I not near to thee?

"Tis but a little while and then the dawing

When I will come

In the bright sunrise of eternal morning

To call thee home.

If thou hast follow'd me through gloom and sadness

Shall I not comfort thee with joy and gladness?

When life's dark days are o'er

There on the shining shore

I have a Crown for thee."

by George Byng