A voice is calling me, a Hand has grasped me,
By cords unseen my soul is upward drawn;
My heart has answered to that upward calling,
I clasp the Hand that lifts and leads me on.
I'm turning from the past that lies behind me,
I'm reaching forth unto the things before;
I've caught the taste of life's eternal fountains,
And all my being longs and thirsts for more.
A brooding Presence hovers o'er my spirit,
The Heavenly Dove my heart doth softly woo;
I catch bright visions of my heavenly calling
And all there is for me to be and do.
A mystic glory lingers all around me,
And all the air breathes out the eternal spring;
I feel the pulses of the New Creation,
And all things whisper of the Coming King.
And in my heart I hear the Spirit's whisper,
"The Bridegroom cometh, hasten to prepare!"
And with my vessels filled and lamps all burning
I'm going out to meet Him in the air.
God has His best things for the few
That dare to stand the test;
God has His second choice for those
Who will not have His best.
It is not always open ill
That risks the promised rest;
The better often is the foe
That keeps us from the best
There's scarcely one but vaguely wants
In some way to be blest;
'Tis not Thy blessing, Lord, I seek,
I want Thy very best.
And others make the highest choice,
But when by trials pressed,
They shrink, they yield, they shun the Cross,
And so they lose the best.
I want, in this short life of mine,
As much as can be pressed
Of service true for God and man;
Help me to be my best.
I want to stand, when Christ appears,
In spotless raiment dressed,
Numbered among his hidden ones,
His holiest and his best.
I want, among the victor throng,
To have my name confessed,
And hear my Master say at last,
"Well done, you did your best."
Give me, O Lord, Thy highest choice,
Let others take the rest;
Their good things have no charm for me,
For I have got Thy best!
W hen over my spirit the burden of sin
Has rolled like a wild, stormy wave,
With darkness and terror without and within,
Then no one but Jesus can save.
When crushed and o'erwhelmed with my sorrow and care
I'm sinking in anguish and fear,
Then no one but Jesus my burden can bear,
And no one but Jesus can cheer.
When sickness, infirmity, anguish and pain
Upon me resistlessly steal,
There's no one but Jesus for body and brain,
There's no one but Jesus can heal.
And when through the valley of death I shall go,
Eternity almost in view,
When shadows grow dark and the waters o'erflow
Then no one but Jesus will do.
T o glorify my God, no lesser aim
My God-given life and powers shall henceforth claim;
My body, soul, and spirit, Lord, are Thine;
The joy to give them back to Thee be mine.
His Father's glory Jesus ever sought;
To do His work and will His only thought;
About His Father's business He must be:
Lord, may Thy business be as much to me.
How best can I my Father glorify?
Naught can be added to His majesty;
But I can let His glory through me shine
And shed on all around His light divine.
And like the legend that they tell of one
Who sought to build a temple to the sun,
And reared the chiseled stone and burnished gold,
But still the splendid walls were dark and cold,
Until another architect appeared;
A temple of transparent glass he reared;
And lo, the sun came down his work to own,
And with his glory through the temple shone;
So let my soul be flooded with Thy light;
So let my heart be open to Thy sight;
So glorify Thyself, O Lord, in me,
Till all my being answers, Lord, to Thee.
Mounting up with wings as eagles,
Waiting on the Lord we rise;
Strength receiving, life renewing,
How our spirit heavenward flies!
Then our springing feet returning
To the pathway of the saint,
We shall run and not be weary,
We shall walk and never faint.
Oh, we need these heights of rapture
Where we mount on eagles' wings;
Then returning to life's duties,
All our heart exultant springs.
This our every burden lightens
Till, with sweet, divine constraint,
We can run and not be weary,
We can walk and never faint.