Jesus, I my cross have taken, All to leave and follow Thee, Destitute, despised, forsaken, Thou from hence my all shalt be. Perish ev'ry fond ambition, All I've sought, or hoped, and known; Yet how rich is my condition! God and heav'n are still my own.

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 thy Saviour died to win thee; Child of heaven, shouldst thou repine?

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; 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

Haste then on from grace to glory, Arm'd by faith, and wing'd by prayer; Heaven's 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 shall change to glad fruition, Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.