Lord Jesus Christ, my life, my light, My strength by day, my trust by night, On earth I'm but a passing guest, And sorely with my sins oppressed. O let Thy sufferings give me power To meet the last and darkest hour-- Thy cross, the staff whereon I lean, My couch, the grave where Thou hast been. Since Thou hast died, the pure, the just, I take my homeward way in trust; The gates of heaven, Lord, open wide, When here I may no more abide. And when the last great day is come, And Thou, our Judge, shalt speak the doom, Let me with joy behold the light, And set me then upon Thy right. Renew this wasted flesh of mine, That like the sun it there may shine Among the angels pure and bright, Yea, like thyself, in glorious light. Ah, then I have my heart's desire, When, singing with the angels' choir, Among the ransomed of Thy grace, Forever I behold Thy face! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HE HAD HIS DREAM by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 56. AL-WALI by EDWIN ARNOLD DROUTH WILL BE ENDED by GLADYS NAOMI ARNOLD LA MORT D'ARTHUR by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 3 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |