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The Cross

 

 The Cross

"The cross! my hope, my boast, my theme,
There's music in the very word;
Compared to it, how worthless seem
All earthly thoughts, and how absurd
The thoughts and aims of men appear
To those to whom the cross is dear.

"The cross! the cross! mysterious tree,
On which the Savior breathed His last;
You wondrous cross, I look to Thee!
The bitterness of death is past;
The sense of guilt so keen before,
So terrible- is felt no more.

"The cross! the cross! how safe he is
Who trusts in it, and it alone;
The promise and the blessing his,
It is better than a royal throne.
A throne, what is it but a toy,
Compared to what the saints enjoy?

"The cross! the cross! Tis shame I know;
It may be death- I love it still!
The cross be mine, come weal, come woe,
From it can come no real ill;
It is fraught with blessing rich and free,
And he who has them, blest is he." -Kelly.


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