4758 7. 8 7. D
JESUS, I my cross have taken,
   All to leave, and follow Thee;
Destitute, despised, forsaken,
    Thou from hence my all shalt be.
Perish every fond ambition,
    All I’ve sought and hoped and known;
Yet how rich is my condition!
    God and Heaven are still my own.
2  Let the world despise and leave me,
    They have left my Saviour too;
Human hearts and looks deceive me;
    Thou art not, like them, 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.
3  Man may trouble and distress me,
    It will drive me to Thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me,
    Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
There is not a grief can harm me,
    While I feel Thy love to me;
There is not a joy can charm me,
    If it is apart from Thee.
4  Take, my soul, this full salvation;
    Rise o’er sin and fear and care:
Find in every situation
    Joy and peace—and service there;
Think what Spirit dwells within me,
    What a Father’s smile is mine,
What a Saviour died to win me:
    Child of Heaven, can I repine?
5  Haste then 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 soon change to glad fruition,
    Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.
Henry Francis Lyte, 1793-1847