Cast Down but not Forsaken.
By L. E. MILNE.
Though of friends I am bereft,
Precious Jesus, thou art left
Why should I then mourn and grieve?
Drooping souls, thou wilt not leave
Though the sport of wind and wave,
Precious Jesus, thou canst save. Farewell, earthly friends, farewell,
Though my heart with grief doth swell,
Yet I hear my Saviour say,
Come, my child, this is the way,
Though the way look dark and drear,
Precious Jesus, thou art near. O my Saviour, thou hast trod,
All this rough and thorny road,
And thy cross I'll meekly take,
All to leave for thy dear sake.
Though my heart is sorely tried,
Hide me 'neath thy bleeding side. Sweetly there will I repose,
Safe from all my wily foes,
Nothing will I seek to know,
But thy holy will below,
Freely all things I resign,
Precious Jesus, thou art mine. Keep, my heart, this princely Guest,
In whose presence I am blest,
Close the door 'gainst every sin
Keep the lovely Saviour in,
Safely then o'er life's rough sea
'Neath the throne I'll anchored be.