Dear Master, in Thy way
Our willing feet shall tread;
What joy Thy mandate to obey,
Our great and glorious Head.

The closing waters hid
Our former world, and we,
Seeking through death our Savior’s side,
Rejoice to die with Thee.

And as we rise again,
Be this confession giv’n,
That we have ris’n with Christ to reign
The Lord of earth and Heav’n.

So would we die to live,
And live no more to die;
Our risen lives, O Christ, receive
And seal them in the sky.

It is not death to die,
To leave this weary road,
And midst the brotherhood on high
To be at home with God.

It is not death to close
The eye long dimmed by tears,
And wake, in glorious repose,
To spend eternal years.

It is not death to bear
The wrench that sets us free
From dungeon chain, to breath the air
Of boundless liberty.

It is not death to fling
Aside this sinful dust
And rise, on strong exulting wing
To live among the just.

Jesus, Thou Prince of Life,
Thy chosen cannot die:
Like Thee, they conquer in the strife
To reign with Thee on high.

Let thoughtless thousands choose the road
That leads the soul away from God;
This happiness, dear Lord, be mine,
To live and die entirely Thine.

On Christ, by faith, I fain would live,
From Him my life, my all, receive,
To Him devote my fleeting hours,
Serve Him alone with all my powers.

Christ is my everlasting All;
To Him I look, on Him I call;
He will my every want supply
In time and through eternity.

Soon will the Lord, my Life, appear;
Soon shall I end my trials here,
Leave sin and sorrow, death and pain.
To live is Christ, to die is gain.

Soon will the saints in glory meet,
Soon walk through every golden street,
And sing on every blissful plain:
To live is Christ, to die is gain.

Living for Jesus, only for Jesus,
Striving in wisdom daily to grow,
Telling His goodness, seeking His glory,
Onward to Canaan, joyful I go;
Doubts may befall me, trials oppress me,
He is my Buckler, strong to defend;
Bright is the prospect, pleasant the journey;
Jesus will lead me safe to the end.

Refrain

O the love of Jesus!
Wondrous love of Jesus!
I will exalt Him forevermore.

Living for Jesus, only for Jesus,
Always forgiving, gentle and mild;
Patient in labor, trusting His promise,
Learning my duty, meek as a child;
When I am hungry, Jesus will feed me,
He is my Shepherd, He is my Guide;
When I am thirsty, He will refresh me,
All that is needful He will provide.

Refrain

Living for Jesus, only for Jesus—
Blessèd employment, blessèd reward!
Crowns in His kingdom wait for the faithful;
There shall the weary rest in the Lord;
Welcome, O welcome toil and affliction!
He is my Anchor steadfast and sure;
Glory to Jesus, glory to Jesus!
I shall behold Him, spotless and pure.

Refrain

No, no, it is not dying
To go unto our God;
This gloomy earth forsaking,
Our journey homeward taking
Along the starry road.

No, no, it is not dying
Heaven’s citizen to be;
A crown immortal wearing,
And rest unbroken sharing,
From care and conflict free.

No, no it is not dying
To hear this gracious word,
“Receive a Father’s blessing,
Forevermore possessing
The favor of thy Lord.”

No, no it is not dying
The Shepherd’s voice to know:
His sheep He ever leadeth,
His peaceful flock He feedeth,
Where living pastures grow.

No, no it is not dying
To wear a lordly crown;
Among God’s people dwelling,
The glorious triumph swelling
Of Him Whose sway we own.

O Jesus, when I think of Thee,
Thy manger, cross, and throne,
My spirit trusts exultingly
In Thee, and Thee alone.

For me Thou didst become a man,
For me didst weep and die;
For me achieve Thy wondrous plan
For me ascend on high.

O let me share Thy holy birth,
Thy faith, Thy death to sin;
And strong, amidst the toils of earth,
My heavenly life begin.

Then shall I know what means the strain
Triumphant of Saint Paul:
“To live is Christ, to die is gain”;
“Christ is my All in all.”

Weep not for a brother deceased;
Our loss is his infinite gain;
A soul out of prison released,
And freed from its bodily chain;
With songs let us follow his flight,
And mount with his spirit above,
Escaped to the mansions of light,
And lodged in the Eden of love.

Our brother the haven has gained,
Outflying the tempest and wind;
His rest he hath sooner obtained,
And left his companions behind,
Still tossed on a sea of distress,
Hard toiling to make the blest shore,
Where all is assurance and peace,
And sorrow and sin are no more.

There all the ship’s company meet,
Who sailed with the Savior beneath,
With shouting each other they greet,
And triumph o’er sorrow and death;
The voyage of life’s at an end;
The mortal affliction is past;
The age that in Heaven they spend,
Forever and ever shall last.

When musing sorrow weeps the past,
And mourns the present pain,
’Tis sweet to think of peace at last,
And feel that death is gain.

’Tis not that murmuring thoughts arise,
And dread a Father’s will,
’Tis not that meek submission flies,
And would not suffer still:

It is that heaven-born faith surveys
The path that leads to light,
And longs her eagle plumes to raise,
And lose herself in sight:

It is that hope with ardor glows,
To see Him face to face,
Whose dying love no language knows
Sufficient art to trace.

O let me wing my hallowed flight
From earthborn woe and care,
And soar above these clouds of night,
My Savior’s bliss to share!

While on the verge of life I stand,
And view the scene on either hand,
My spirit struggles with my clay,
And longs to wing its flight away.

Where Jesus dwells my soul would be,
And faints my much loved Lord to see:
Earth, twine no more about my heart,
For ’tis far better to depart.

Come, ye angelic envoys, come,
And lead the willing pilgrim home!
Ye know the way to Jesus’ throne—
Source of my joys and of your own.

That blissful interview, how sweet,
To fall transported at His feet:
Raised in His arms to view His face,
Thro’ the full beamings of His grace.

The call to arms is sounding,
The foemen muster strong;
While saints beneath the altar
Are crying, “Lord, how long?”
The living and the loving
Christ’s royal standard raise,
And marching on to conflict
Shout forth their Captain’s praise.

No time for self-indulgence,
For resting by the way;
Repose will come at even,
But toil is for the day;
Work, like the blessèd Jesus,
Who from His earliest youth
Would do His Father’s business
And witness for the truth.

For the one Faith, the true Faith,
The Faith which cannot fail,
For the one Church, the true Church,
’Gainst which no foes prevail;
Made one with God incarnate,
We in His might must win
The glory of self-conquest,
Of victory over sin.

Behold! upon Mount Sion
A glorious people stand,
A crown on every forehead,
A palm in every hand;
Lo! these are they who boldly
The Name of Christ confessed,
And now triumphant praise Him
In Heav’n’s unresting rest.

O Jesu! Who art waiting
Thy faithful ones to crown,
Vouchsafe to bless our conflict,
Our loving service own;
Come in each heart forever
As King adored to reign,
Till we with saints triumphant
Uplift the victor strain.

We are soldiers of Christ, who is mighty to save,
And His banner the Cross is unfurled;
We are pledged to be faithful and steadfast and brave
Against Satan, the flesh, and the world.

We are brothers and comrades, we stand side by side,
And our faith and our hope are the same;
And we think of the Cross on which Jesus has died,
When we bear the reproach of His Name.

At the font we were marked with the Cross on our brow,
Of our grace and our calling the sign;
And the weakest is strong to be true to his vow,
For the armor we wear is divine.

We will watch ready armed if the Tempter draw near,
If he comes with a frown or a smile;
We will heed not his threats, nor his flatteries hear,
Nor be taken by storm or by wile.

We will master the flesh, and its longings restrain,
We will not be the bond slaves of sin,
The pure Spirit of God in our nature shall reign,
And our spirits their freedom shall win.

For the world’s love we live not, its hate we defy,
And we will not be led by the throng;
We’ll be true to ourselves, to our Father on high,
And the bright world to which we belong.

Now let each cheer his comrade, let hearts beat as one,
While we follow where Christ leads the way;
’Twere dishonor to yield, or the battle to shun,
We will fight, and will watch, and will pray.

Though the warfare be weary, the trial be sore,
In the might of our God we will stand;
Oh! what joy to be crowned and be pure evermore,
In the peace of our own Fatherland.