Speak to me now of Christ, who lowly suffered,
Enduring spitting, scourging, grief and shame —
Who, when accused and cursed, He answered nothing —
He is my Savior — let me hear His name!
Speak to me now of Christ, who heavy laden
Bore the dread cross up Calvary’s cruel hill;
The Lord of life! He died in bitter anguish —
For my vile sins His own life-blood did spill.
Speak to me now of Christ, who spoke to Mary,
That resurrection morn, of death’s defeat,
Revealing to her heart that secret, “Father!
I now ascend, and, in Me, you are meet.”
Speak to me now of Christ, who soon is coming
To take us home, where sight can never dim,
Where all His own, with tongues and hearts uniting,
In one eternal song, shall speak of Him!
And when I speak, let me speak well of Jesus,
The altogether lovely One, my Friend —
My every thought of Him brings peace and comfort;
He loves me and will love me to the end.
E. Light