“What think ye of Christ?" is the test,
To try both your state and your scheme;
You cannot be right in the rest
Unless you think rightly of Him:
As Jesus appears to your view—
As He is beloved or not,
So God is disposed to you,
And mercy or wrath is your lot.
Some take Him a creature to be—
A man, or an angel at most;
But they have not feelings like me,
Nor know themselves wretched or lost;
So guilty, so helpless am I,
I durst not confide in His blood
Nor on His protection rely
Unless I were sure He is God.
Some call Him a Savior 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 fall)
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 Savior they kiss,
And while they salute Him, betray;
CH what will profession like this
wail in that terrible day?
If ask'd 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 Savior from sin and from thrall;
My Hope from beginning to end
My Portion, my Lord, and my All.