Classic Poem

Art thou a saint? And doth
Thy God thee own?
Call thee a child, an heir, a chosen one,
One with himself and his beloved Son,
Heir of his crown?

Hast thou the love of Christ
Thy Saviour known? —
The love that passeth knowledge, the rich grace
That stooped to poverty and death, to place
Thee on his throne?

Know'st thou the Christ of God?
His cross and love?
Then art thou severed from this drossy earth,
Linked to the city of thy better birth,
The land above!

Dead, yet alive, thou art;
Alive yet dead;
Thy old life buried in thy Surety's tomb,
Thy new life hid in God 'bove death and doom,
With Christ thy Head!

Thy life is not below;
'Tis all on high!
The Living One now lives for thee above,
the Loving One now pleads for thee in love,
Thou canst not die!

Live then the life of faith!
The life divine;
Live in and on this ever-living One,
Who bears thee on his heart before the throne,
His life is thine!

Pass on from strength to strength,
Faint not nor yield;
With girded loins press on, the goal is near,
With ready sword fight God's great battle here,
Win thou the field!

No rest nor slumber now,
Watch and be strong!
Love is the smoother of the rugged way,
And Hope, at midnight, as in brightest day,
Breaks forth in song!