Your ShelfYour Projects

CHRIST IS LEFT

25%

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jul 31, 1856

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 8, No. 13.

Read the full edition

CHRIST IS LEFT.

Let the winds of sorrow blow Roughly o'er this track of mine, Let the fount of grief o'erflow, Hope's sweet star forbear to shine. Though of every comfort shorn, Though of every joy bereft, Weak, defenceless and forlorn— I am rich if Christ is left.
Let the spoiler's ruthless blow Sunder all my cherished ties, Let affection bend in wo, Where the last, the dearest lies; Clinging to each shattered shrine; Of its idol sweet bereft, Never can my soul repine, While it grieves—if Christ is left.
Earthly treasures, hopes and joys, Ye may leave me if ye will; 'Mid the wrecks where time destroys, I am rich in Jesus still. E'en when death's keen pangs shall wring This weak frame of life bereft, Joyful still my soul shall sing, All is mine, for Christ is left!