1 Kor 1:4-9; Kol 3:11
How rich Thy bounty, King of kings!Thy favors, how divine!The blessings which Thy Gospel brings,How splendidly they shine!
Gold is but dross, and gems but toys,Should gold and gems compare;How mean, when sent against those joysThy poorest servants share!
Yet all these treasures of Thy graceAre lodged in urns of clay;And the weak sons of mortal raceThe immortal gifts convey.
Feebly they lisp Thy glories forth,Yet grace the victory gives;Quickly they molder back to earth,Yet still Thy Gospel lives.
Such wonders power divine effects;Such trophies God can raise;His hand, from crumbling dust, erectsHis monuments of praise.
Through good report and evil, Lord,Still guided by Thy faithful Word,Our staff, our buckler and our sword,We follow Thee.
In silence of the lonely night,In the full glow of day’s clear light,Through life’s strange windings, dark or bright,We follow Thee.
Strengthened by Thee we forward go,’Mid smile or scoff of friend or foe,Through pain or ease, through joy or woe,We follow Thee.
With enemies on every side,We lean on Thee, the Crucified;Forsaking all on earth beside,We follow Thee.
O Master, point Thou out the way,Nor suffer Thou our steps to stray;Then in the path that leads to dayWe follow Thee.
Thou hast passed on before our face;Thy footsteps on the way we trace;O keep us, aid us by Thy grace;We follow Thee.
Whom have we in the heaven above,Whom on this earth, save Thee, to love?Still in Thy light we onward move;We follow Thee.