Brethren Archive

"Mighty to Save"

by Char­i­tie L. Ban­croft

The King of Glory standeth 
  Beside the heart of sin. 
His mighty voice commandeth
  The raging waves within. 
The floods of deepest anguish 
  Roll backward at His will, 
As o'er the storm ariseth
  His mandate, "Peace be still." 

At times with sudden glory, 
  He speaks and all is done ; 
Without one stroke of battle 
  The victory is won. 
While we with joy beholding 
  Can scarce believe it true 
That e'en our Kingly Jesus 
  Can thus form hearts anew. 

He comes in blood-stained garments, 
  Upon His brow a crown; 
The gates of brass fly open, 
  The iron bands drop down. 
From off the fettered captive 
  The chains of Satan fall, 
While angels shout triumphant 
  That Christ is Lord of all. 

But sometimes in the stillness 
  He gently draweth near, 
And whispers words of comfort 
  Into the sinner's ear; 
With anxious heart he waiteth 
  The answer to His cry, 
The oft-repeated question, 
  "Oh, wherefore wilt ye die?" 

Or in the gathering darkness. 
  With wounded feet and sore. 
The suppliant Saviour standeth, 
  And knocketh at the door. 
The bleak winds howl around Him, 
  The unbelief and sin; 
Yet Jesus waits, entreating 
  That He may enter in.

He whispers through the lattice, 
  He woos them with His love, 
He calls them to the kingdom 
  That waits for them above. 
He speaks of all the gladness 
  His yearning heart would give; 
Tells of the flowing fountain, 
  And bids the wash and live. 

O Christ, Thy love is mighty,
  Long-suffering is Thy grace.
And glorious is the splendor 
  That beameth from Thy face!
Our hearts upleap in gladness 
  When we behold that love, 
As we go singing onward, 
  To dwell with Thee above!.

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