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Hymns and Meditations
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HYMN 21

L. M.

“I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfortably unto her. And I will give her her vineyards from thence, and the valley of Achor for a door of hope; and she shall sing there.” — Hosea 2:14,15.

“I know, O Lord, that Thy judgments are right, and that Thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.” — Psalm 119:75.

I will love Thee, O Lord, my strength —

Thee shall my rescued heart embrace;

Thy love, in all its breadth and length,

Shall be my peaceful dwelling place.

Whom have I on the earth beside?

Thy cross, Thy crown of thorns I see;

Thou who to save my life hast died,

I will have fellowship with Thee.

Surely Thy human heart has borne

My greatest grief, my least distress —

Surely I see my Savior mourn

With the bowed spirit He will bless

Nailed to Thy cross, I would not fly

The pain it grieves Thy soul to give:

If because Thou hast died I die,

Because Thou livest I shall live.

How could a moment's pang destroy

My heart's confirmed repose in Thee?

Thy presence is sufficient joy

To one reclaimed and spared like me.

It is enough that I am Thine —

Almighty to redeem from sin;

Thou shalt subdue, correct, refine

The heart which Thou hast died to win.

Now, through this light and passing pain,

The travail of Thy soul I see —

I know Thou hast not borne in vain

The mortal anguish due to me;

Thoughts of a love unfelt before

In comfort on my heart descend —

This suffering must have cost Thee more

Than I can ever comprehend.

Yet, through a sacred sympathy,

I of Thy precious death partake

I feel my fellowship with Thee,

And with the Father for Thy sake.

I see the source of all Thy woe,

Thy resurrection's power I feel —

And streams of living waters flow

Through the dry desert where I kneel.

Shielded from every fear of wrath, —

Looking through love on all that is —

I see about my troubled path

A cloud of tranquil witnesses.

Happy the chastening to endure,

That makes me one, in love and trust,

With all the lowly, all the pure,

All the tried spirits of the just.

Thy children's sympathy is sweet,

But all is measured — all in part;

Into Thy love my hopes retreat,

For that which satisfles the heart.

There may be other love in store,

But none whereof Thy child may say —

My strength, my life, for evermore,

My ample portion day by day.

Such solace as around me grows,

Thou for my need shalt still prepare —

But make Thy bosom my repose,

And fix my expectation there.

For Thou canst cherish and uphold

Life, that no eye but Thine may see —

And no rough wind, no heat, or cold,

Shall hurt the love that clings to Thee.

In to Thy silent place of prayer,

The anxious, wandering mind recall —

Dwell mid Thy own creation there,

Restoring, claiming, hallowing all.

Then the calm spirit, won from sin,

Thy perfect sacrifice shall be —

And all the ransomed powers therein

Shall go forth, glorifying Thee.

Out of this spirit of Thy grace,

O, who can tell what light has beamed!

I see the solitary place,

A garden for Thy own redeemed.

I see the desolated ground,

With dews of Heavenly kindness fed —

And fruits of joy and love surround

The heart which Thou hast comforted.

O knowledge all my thoughts above!

This thirsty vale I could not flee,

This yearning for unbounded love

Has been “a door of hope” to me.

Who would go forth in haste by flight,

From the dry land which Thou wilt bless —

Sown with the everlasting light,

That shows Thy “very faithfulness!”

Thou hast loved me, O Lord, my strength;

On Thee my yielded heart shall lean;

Thy guiding love in all its length

Shall teach me all Thy judgments mean.

And I will ask Thee for a sign

That many an anxious eye may see —

Give me the love that rests in Thine,

For those whom Thou hast tried like me.

Love that believes, is always sweet

To fearful hearts, which Thou wilt guide,

And mine may win some timid feet,

To the deep River's quiet side.

While from that River's fertile banks,

My resting eye their portion sees —

O that my, soul might yield Thee thanks;

By comforting the least of these.

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