p. 1 | MY CROSS | AdventAI

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jun 10, 1873

MY CROSS.

It is not heavy, agonizing woe, Bearing me down with hopeless, crushing weight— No ray of comfort in the gathering gloom; A heart bereaved, a household desolate.

It is not sickness, with her withering hand, Keeping me low upon a couch of pain; Longing each morning for the weary night, At night for weary day, to come again.

It is not poverty, with chilling blast, The sunken eye, the hunger-wasted form; The dear ones perishing for lack of bread, With no safe shelter from the winter's storm.

It is not slander, with her evil tongue; 'Tis no “presumptuous sin” against my God; Not reputation lost, or friends betrayed; That such is not my cross, I thank my God.

Mine is a daily cross of petty cares, Of little duties pressing on my heart, Of little troubles hard to reconcile, Of inward struggles, overcome in part.

My feet are weary in their daily rounds, My heart is weary of its daily care, My sinful nature often doth rebel; I pray for grace my daily cross to bear.

It is not heavy, Lord, yet oft I pine; It is not heavy, but 'tis everywhere; By day and night each hour my cross I bear; I dare not lay it down—Thou keep'st it there.

I dare not lay it down. I only ask, That, taking up my daily cross, I may Follow my Master humbly, step by step, Through clouds and darkness, unto perfect day. —Church Monthly.