425
C. H. M.
The world knoweth us not.
1 John 3:1.
Let others boast their ancient line,
In long succession great;
In the proud list let heroes shine,
And monarchs swell the state,
Descended from the King of kings,
Each saint a nobler title sings.
2 Pronounce me, gracious God, thy son,
Own me an heir divine;
I’ll pity princes on the throne,
When I can call thee mine:
Scepters and crowns unenvied rise,
And lose their luster in my eyes.
3 Content, obscure, I pass my days,
To all I meet unknown,
And wait till thou thy child shalt raise,
And seat me near thy throne:
No name, no honors here I crave,
Well pleased with those beyond the grave.
4 Jesus, my elder brother, lives;
With him I, too, shall reign;
Nor sin, nor death, while he survives,
Shall make the promise vain;
In him my title stands secure,
And shall while endless years endure.
5 When he, in robes divinely bright,
Shall once again appear,
Thou, too, my soul, shalt shine in light,
And his full image bear:
Enough!—I wait th’ appointed day—
Blessed Saviour, haste, and come away!
Cruttenden.