I will set thee up on high.

Lord, unto my soul Thou art
All, my all.
Yet, when I would fill my heart,
Oh how small
Its capacity I find,
And my narrow, finite mind
Shrinks before the infinite;
Lord, my God, Thou art very great.

Thou the holy, I th' unclean,
Yet, how blest! Thou hast made my head to lean
On Thy breast.
'Tis Thy pierced hand doth lead,
Yea, supplieth all my need;
And I'll soon behold Thy face;
Lord, my God, What wondrous grace!

Thou my Lord, my Saviour art
Near, so near;
To my lonely, longing heart,
None so dear.
Yet, the ground on which I tread
Fills me with a holy dread,
That for me Thou'st stooped to die;
Lord, my God, Thou art very high.-

Thou my Saviour, couldst not rest
Up on high
While my soul was still unblest,
Thou must die.
That alone Thou shouldst not be,
But, throughout eternity
Thou mightest have Thy loved ones there,
All the joys of heaven to share.

When I try to measure love-
Love like Thine,
And remember Thou hast "proved
It is mine-
Tho' I know Thy holy word
Never could deceive me Lord-
Yet, I own Thy love to me
Is a strange, sweet mystery.

Oft I ponder o'er Thy words,
Sweet to me,
And the meeting on the clouds
Soon to be:
And it seemeth hard to wait,
And Thy coming groweth late-
Will this longing ever cease ?
Never, till I see Thy face.

Tho' Thou art so great, so high,
Lord, my God,
Through Thy deep humility
And God's rod,
I was drawn from out the deep,
Dark abyss of Satan's keep,
Up to Thine own heart and home,
Henceforth nevermore to roam.

H. McD.