hymns-for-the-poor-of-the-flock-v4

83. ‘Master! we would no longer be.’

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1. Master! we would no longer be 
Lov’d by the world that hated Thee,
But patient in Thy footsteps go,
Thy sorrow as Thy joy to know,
We would—and O bestow the pow’r— 
With meekness meet the darkest hour, 
By shame, contempt, however tried,
For Thou wast scorn’d and crucified.

2. We welcome still Thy faithful word—
“The cross shall meet its sure reward;” 
For soon must pass the “little while,” 
When joy shall crown Thy servants’ toil:
When we shall hear Thee, Saviour, say 
“Arise, my love, and come away;
Look up, for thou shalt weep no more,
But rest on heaven’s eternal shore.”