“My meditation of Him shall be sweet,”

His name is like ointment poured forth;

No seraph or angel of light,

Ever whispered a name of such worth.

I gaze with deep wonder and joy

In the manger of yon lowly stall,

And praise Him for coming to earth

To save from the curse of the fall.

I ponder and muse on the cross,

Where He suffered and died in His love,

To save from the doom of God’s wrath,

And fit us for dwelling above.

In muteness and sorrow I sit

On the brink of the dark silent grave,

And think of His measureless love—

His life for my ransom He gave.

Through tear-drops that well up and fall,

I behold that blest Man of the tomb

Come forth in His glory and power,

Dispelling all darkness and gloom.

I scan the deep blue of the skies

And see Him recede in the air;

He mounts to the court of all worlds—

In God’s presence, to plead for me there.

And in the bright visions of hope

I see Him descending the sky,

To rapture His loved ones away

To mansions of infinite joy.

Then, in the glad strain of the Seer,

I see Him returning to reign:

To set up His kingdom on earth

Where He was derided and slain.

His redeemed ones in millions shall come

And bask in the bliss of His reign,

Creation shall own Him as King.

And join in redemption’s sweet strain.

Beyond the swift passing of years

The end of time’s ages I see,               

When He’ll reign through the cycles beyond—

Though undated, unmeasured, they be.

Then, ponder and muse, O my soul,

On themes which His glories embrace;

And seek with deep fervence of love,

His greatness more fully to trace.

Read daily the leaves of the Book

Whose pages are gilded with light;

Rejoice in the One it unfolds—

May He be thy constant delight.

      (From Help and Food, Vol. 41.)