THE CHRISTIAN'S HIDDEN HOPE
[From the Church of England Magazine.] THE CHRISTIAN'S HIDDEN HOPE.
“For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God.” WHAT ails thee, Christian, thus to shun
The few bright rays from life's brief sun?
The gay delights of fashion's aim,
Ambition's dazzling dreams of fame,
The mirthful joys of festive glee,
Seem to have lost all charms for thee:
Life's sole enjoyment thou hast fled—
Thou seem'st to me already dead. I live! I live! though I am dead
To the gay life by worldlings led:
A nobler aim my mind employs,
Brighter my hopes, more sweet my joys:
Inspired with life of heavenly birth,
Soaring above the toys of earth,
I live not for this fleshly clod:
My life is hid with Christ in God. Afflicted Christian! trouble's train
Seems to combine to yield thee pain:
Such bitter woe, heart-rending care,
Would plunge me into mad despair:
Yet thou art still composed and calm;
What potent nostrum, opiate balm,
What mystic power, what magic spell,
Nerves thee to bear thy woe so well? Though calm and tranquil is my soul
While trouble's billows o'er me roll,
No opiate drug, no magic charm
Preserves my mind from wild alarm:
Celestial grace gives strength within,
And keeps my wounded frame serene:
The chast'ning hand that guides the rod
Thus trims my hidden life for God. Poor, feeble Christian! death is near—
No hope remains; dost thou not fear!
Dost thou not dread the fatal doom
That bears man to the mould'ring tomb?
Ah! why that smile? The sunken eye
Seems lit afresh with ecstasy,
Can thy new life restore thy breath,
Or shield thee from the shaft of death? Welcome is death! Beyond the tomb
My hidden life will reach its home
In realms celestial! blest abode!
The purchase of my Saviour God!
E'en now the prospect grows more bright,
As earthy things fade on my sight.
Soon shall my flesh unconscious sleep,
Jesus my life will safely keep,
Till he in power and glory come,
And raise my body from the tomb.
My life then, hid no more, shall shine
Resplendent in his rays divine.