This Same Jesus

This same Jesus !' Oh ! how sweetly
Fall those words upon the ear,
Like a swell of far off music,
In a nightwatch still and drear !

He who healed the hopeless leper,
He who dried the widow's tear ;

He who changed to health and gladness
Helpless suffering, trembling fear ;

He who wandered, poor and homeless,
By the stormy Galilee ;
He who on the night-robed mountain
Bent in prayer the wearied knee ;

He who spake as none had spoken,
Angel-wisdom far above,
All-forgiving, ne'er upbraiding,
Full of tenderness and love ;

He who gently called the weary,
'Come and I will give you rest !'
He who loved the little children,
Took them in His arms and blest ;

He, the lonely Man of sorrows,
'Neath our sin-curse bending low ;

By His faithless friends forsaken
In the darkest hours of woe ; —
'This same Jesus !' When the vision
Of that last and awful day
Bursts upon the prostrate spirit,
Like a midnight lightning ray !

When, else dimly apprehended,
All its terrors seem revealed,
Trumpet knell and fiery heavens,
And the books of doom unsealed ;

Then, we lift our hearts adoring
'This same Jesus,' loved and known,
Him, our own most gracious Saviour,
Seated on the great white Throne ;

He Himself, and' not another,'
He for whom our heart-love yearned
Through long years of twilight waiting,
To His ransomed ones returned !

For this word, O Lord, we bless Thee,
Bless our Master's changeless name ;

Yesterday, to-day, for ever,
Jesus Christ is still the Same.