Some call Him a Saviour, in word, But mix their own works with His plan; And hope He His help will afford, When they have done all that they can: If doings prove rather too light (A little they own they may fail), They purpose to make up full weight, By casting His name in the scale.
Some style Him "the Pearl of great price," And say, He's the fountain of joys; Yet feed upon folly and vice, And cleave to the world and its toys: Like Judas, the Saviour they kiss, And while they salute Him, betray: Oh! what will profession like this Avail in His terrible day?
If asked what of Jesus _I_ think, Though still my best thoughts are but poor, I say, He's my meat and my drink, My life and my strength and my store; My Shepherd, my trust and my Friend, My Saviour from sin and from thrall; My Hope from beginning to end, My Portion, my Lord and my All.