Within the humble cottage walls
The light was burning low:
A child of God lay dying there,
Her breath came weak and slow.
A man of faith came to her side,
And bending o'er her bed,
"Pray, what is Jesus to you now ?"
In loving accents said.

Her earthly path was near its close,
Her arduous work was done;
Bravely against the storms of life
She'd struggled all alone:
But through her " weary pilgrimage"
She'd known a precious Friend,
And He who hears the widow's cry
Sustained her to the end.

A moment passed before she spoke;
Then from her lips did fall
A whisper, "Blessed Jesus,"-these
Most simple words were all.
A peaceful smile lit up her face,
His name had brought it there,
Though life on earth was ebbing fast,
'Twas not in dark despair.

A widow she had been indeed,
But Jesus was her stay,
And He who knew them ever shared
The burdens of the day:
And God who through the desert sands
Of old His people led
And shepherded to Canaan's rest,
This widow clothed and fed.

Jesus had been her Saviour here,
Her peace amid the strife,
Her joy in sorrow's lonely hours,
Her Counselor through life.
And so they ask, as to that saint
Eternity draws near, "
Pray, what is Jesus unto you ?
'Tis all we wish to hear."
Again her weary eyes had closed,
(They thought her life was o'er;)
But ere she crossed the Border Land
She answered them once more:
A smile of peace, a whispered word,
'Twas "Blessed Jesus" still.
She fell asleep in Christ, whose love
Her inmost heart did fill.

Say, is this Saviour all your trust ?
Is He your only stay ?
Is "Blessed Jesus" unto you
The Life, the Truth, the Way ?
Oh, if you lean upon His grace,
He'll keep you by His power,
And you shall see Him face to face
When this brief life is o'er. F.