TEACH US TO DIE

WHERE shall we learn to die?
Go, gaze with steadfast eye
On dark Gethsemane

Or darker Calvary,

Where through each lingering hour
The Lord of grace and power,
Most lowly and most high,

Has taught the Christian how to die.

When in the olive shade

His long last prayer he pray'd,
When on the cross to heaven
His parting spirit was given,
He show'd that to fulfil
The Father's gracious will,
Not asking how or why,
Alone prepares the soul to die.

No word of anxious strife,
No anxious cry for life;
By scoff and torture torn,
He speaks not scorn for scorn;
Calmly forgiving those

Who deem themselves his foes,
In silent majesty

He points the way at peace to die.

Delighting to the last

In memories of the past;
Glad at the parting meal
In lowly tasks to kneel;

Still yearning to the end

For mother and for friend;
His great humility

Loves in such acts of love to die.

Beyond his depth of woes
A wider thought arose,
Along his path of gloom,
Thought for his country's doom;
Athwart all pain and grief,
Thought for the contrite thief:
The far-stretch'd sympathy
Lives on when all beside shall die,

Bereft, but not alone,

The world is still his own;
The realm of deathless truth
Still breathes immortal youth;
Sure, though in shuddering dread,
That all is finished,

With purpose fix'd and high

The friend of all mankind must die.

Oh, by those weary hours
Of slowly-ebbing powers;
By those deep lessons heard
In each expiring word;
By that unfailing love
Lifting the soul above,
When our last end is nigh,

So teach us, Lord, with thee to die.

GAVE MY LIFE FOR THEE

I GAVE my life for thee,

My precious blood I shed

That thou mightst ransom'd be,
And quicken'd from the dead.
I gave my life for thee;
What hast thou given for me?

I spent long years for thee
În weariness and woe,
That an eternity

Of joy thou mightest know.
I spent long years for thee;
Hast thou spent one for me?

My Father's home of light,
My rainbow-circled throne,
I left, for earthly night,

For wanderings sad and lone.
I left it all for thee;
Hast thou left aught for me?

I suffer'd much for thee,
More than thy tongue may tell
Of bitterest agony,

To rescue thee from hell.
I suffer'd much for thee;
What canst thou bear for me?

And I have brought to thee, Down from my home above, Salvation full and free,

My pardon and my love. Great gifts I brought to thee; What hast thou brought to me?

Oh, let thy life be given,

Thy years for him be spent, World-fetters all be riven, And joy with suffering blent; I gave myself for thee: Give thou thyself to me?