God finds, Thou Spotless One, in Thee
Where all perfections dwell,
All that His heart could wish for me,
More than my tongue could tell.
He finds me ransomed, righteous, fair,
Where all His joys transcendent are –
He finds me perfect for His praise,
His glory through eternal days.
Oh, strange that I should ever leave
Such place of rest in Thee;
That I should e’er Thy Spirit grieve,
Or from Thy presence flee.
To turn to creature joys for rest
Is but to wander from Thy breast;
Yielding to sin’s enticing snare
But robs my sweet abiding there.
Oh, keep me then, most blessed Lord,
Abiding in Thee still,
In deep communion, through Thy Word,
Thy life in me fulfil.
Dark shadows here are all around;
I’m only safe as in Thee found;
Soon, and for ever on Thy breast,
Shall be my sweet, eternal rest.
James Butler Stoney 1865.