For His Dear Sake by C. H. PRETYMAN

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 24, 1912

For His Dear Sake

By C. H. PRETYMAN

C. H. PRETYMAN

I SEE young Abram leaving kindred dear, His father's house, and country of his birth. For land unknown he sallies bravely forth, Ne'er to return. He journeys at God's word, For his dear sake.

I see the princely Moses at the court Of Pharaoh, trained to occupy the throne. He weighs the kingdom's treasures and its fame, And chooses, rather, suffering to endure For his dear sake.

I see the noble Paul with bleeding back And chained hands and feet in Roman cell; I hear his midnight prayer and song of praise From heart that loved to labor and to bear For his dear sake.

I see the aged Peter on the cross, Who once with curse and oath denied his Lord; With head to earth he dies unflinchingly, By grace sustained to die the martyr's death, For his dear sake.

I see a mother parting from her son; She clasps him tightly to her aching breast, Where she remembers how he nestled once; She bids him go to seek and save the lost, For his dear sake.

I see a husband left to mourn the loss Of her whom God had given till death should part; Worn with the conflict, she had sunk to rest; Alone, he bravely labors, at the thought, For his dear sake.

I see a wife and mother in the home Await the day when “father” will return; God knows the measure of the sacrifice She daily offers uncomplainingly For his dear sake.

I see a daughter, tender, pure, and fair, With anger thrust from the paternal home Because she loved the Christ who died for her. Fearless she stands—though head and heart are sore— For his dear sake.

I see a graveside in the distant isles, Where men are savage and where fever reigns; Two hearts are breaking, yet with mystic joy They lay to rest their loved and only child, For his dear sake.

I see one toiling on from day to day At tasks both uncongenial and severe; I hear no murmur, but glad smiles I see: It is not toil, but service sweet indeed, For his dear sake.

Come, tell me, all, would ye escape the cross? Wouldst be relieved, nor suffer loss or pain? Wouldst wish the path of pleasure and of ease? Nay! the reply, we joy to suffer thus, For his dear sake.

Wahroonga, New South Wales, Australia.