HIS LOVE
The love of Christ doth me constrain
To seek the wandering souls of men;
With cries, entreaties, tears to save,
To snatch them from the gaping grave.
For this let men revile my name;
No cross I shun, I fear no shame:
All hail, reproach! And welcome, pain!
Only Thy terrors, Lord, restrain.
My life, my blood, I here present,
If for Thy truth they may be spent:
Thy faithful witness will I be:
‘Tis fix’d! I can do all through Thee.
- Anonymous -
