His are the skies above thee spread,
He sitteth on heaven’s throne;
All His, if thou art with him joined,
He bids thee deem thine own.
Wilt follow Him, sad, needy soul?
He condescends to call thee still:
Come, doubt no longer, in Him trust;
Say, needy soul, “I will!”
XVI.
THE SEARCH.
I had sought throughout creation,