My trust is in Jesus who died on the tree;
He now is in glory and pleading for me;
He is coming again, I know not how soon,
To give me a place with Himself and His own.

My boast is in Him with whom none can compare,
God sees me in Him, and He is all fair:
In myself worse than nought,-in Him I'm complete,
Through free grace alone for glory made meet.

In a sense of this grace, I'm pressing along,
Being consciously weak I lean on the Strong:
'Tis just for to day, till the conflict is o'er;
Then I leave the dark vale, and reach the bright shore.

No praise due to me, for all is of God-
All is through Jesus, by His precious blood.
Yes, He's coming again to take up His own
To be with Himself, we know not how soon.

He may come to-day, or He may come tonight;
It behooves us to have our lamps burning bright.
We know He'll come soon, this we know by the Word:
Oh, may we in heart truly wait for the Lord.

R. H.