JESUS IS MINE by Sarah M. Swan

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 28, 1858

JESUS IS MINE.

By Sarah M. Swan

What though my path o'er life's rough way, Be strewed with thorns, with grief beset, Though dark and cloudy be my day, And oft with tears my couch be wet; Though worldly hopes be blasted all, And pleasure prove an empty dream, If 'mid the care, the grief, the toil, My soul can chant the rapturous theme, Jesus is mine.

What though on all my eyes behold Decay and death I see inscribed, Though mixed with dross the purest gold, And false the gems which brightest shine. What though no tranquil rest I know, No earthly joys, no peaceful dome, My treasure is not here below, I seek a fair a heavenly home, Jesus is mine.

Yes he is mine, I ask no more, My help, my Saviour, and my friend, My hope when life's brief day is o'er, My shield from evil to defend; My refuge from the wrath to come, My shelter from the gathering storm, My guide amid the thickening gloom, To point me to the coming morn, Jesus is mine.

O glorious portion! blest indeed Is he who doth this prize secure, Without him I could ne'er be rich, With such a treasure ne'er be poor; Not all the boasted pomp of earth, Hath power to charm or lure away; While I can view with eye of faith The Lamb of God, and calmly say, Jesus is mine.

Jesus is mine, let all depart, Come toil or sorrow, grief or pain, To him I give this trembling heart, And he will ne'er the trust disdain. His arm shall bear me safely through, Though deep the waves of trouble rise, To earth I bid a long adieu, I'll sing with seraphs in the skies, Jesus is mine.

SARAH M. SWAN. Orwell, Ohio.