IN CHILDHOOD AND MANHOOD CHRIST IS ALL.
By N. W. Vincent
I little thought of God,
My mind was dark and vain;
Through fields of ignorance I trod,
Drawn on by fancy's chain. This world was all to me,
I loved its passing toys;
Fondly I grasped what I could see—
What charms while it destroys. I dreamed of love and wealth,
Of knowledge, might, and fame;
Presumed on happiness and health,
And conduct free from blame. My guilty sleep was broke,
God's chastisement I felt;
His Spirit to my conscience spoke,
In penitence I knelt. What heavenly pity flows
From Jesus' mortal wounds!
God heard me, loved me, healed my woes;
His praise my tongue resounds. Aloud I praised him then,
And thought in childish way
I ne'er should grieve my God again,
Ne'er from my Saviour stray. This world most false I found;—
Its wealth sheer poverty,
Its power and fame but empty sound,
Its splendors vanity. The joys of which it sings
Are transitory all;
Its every sin is a death sting,
Its sweetness turns to gall. O my deceitful heart!
Who can thy vileness know?
How keenly hast thou felt that smart,
That bitterness and woe! For years I loved the world,
Indulged its pride and lust;
Now if to hell my soul was hurled
My doom would be most just. All guilty, trembling, faint,
I look to my High Priest!
His blood makes even me a saint,
Although of all the least. Spirit of life and truth,
To Jesus lead our mind;
May childhood, manhood, age, and youth,
In Christ salvation find.