Jesus, I my cross have taken,

All to leave, and follow Thee;

Destitute, despis’d, forsaken,

Thou from hence my All shalt be:

Perish every fond ambition,

All I’ve sought, or hop’d, or known.

Yet how rich is my condition!

God and Heav’n are still my own!

Man may trouble and distress me,

Twill but drive me to Thy breast;

Life with trials, hard may press me,

Heav'n will bring me sweeter rest!

Oh! 'tis not in grief to harm me,

While Thy love is left to me!

Oh! 'twere not in joy to charm me,

Were that joy unmixed with Thee!

Take, my soul, thy full Salvation.

Rise o’er sin and fear and care;

Joy to find in every station,

Something still to do or bear,

Think what Spirit dwells within thee!

What a Father’s smile is thine!

What a Saviour died to win thee

Child of Heav’n, shouldst thou repine?

Haste then on from grace to glory

Arm’d by faith, and wing’d by pray’r

Heav’ns Eternal Day’s before thee,

God’s own Hand shall guide thee there!

Soon shall close thy earthly mission

Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days

Hope soon, change to glad fruition,

Faith to sight, pray’r to praise,