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MARY OF BETHANY.
'Tis held in sweet remembrance still on every Christian shore;
That we such rapture might possess, her nature might partake,
To do our best, to give our all, our all for Jesus' sake!
That we such rapture might possess, her nature might partake,
To do our best, to give our all, our all for Jesus' sake!
With power divine her soul was touched, straightway was she impelled
To act—tell me if love like this was ever yet excelled?
Her brow all radiant with joy, a marked and earnest face,
How beautiful, how beautiful her form of perfect grace!
She bowed in sweet humility, devotion tender, true—
How lovely grows the picture now as I the theme pursue;
Her heavenly, pure, holy love compelled her to forsake
Her ways, to go and bring her all, her all for Jesus' sake.
To act—tell me if love like this was ever yet excelled?
Her brow all radiant with joy, a marked and earnest face,
How beautiful, how beautiful her form of perfect grace!
She bowed in sweet humility, devotion tender, true—
How lovely grows the picture now as I the theme pursue;
Her heavenly, pure, holy love compelled her to forsake
Her ways, to go and bring her all, her all for Jesus' sake.
She sought her treasure—aye, her last, her last and only one,
For how could she refuse to give when He her heart had won?
The precious ointment, see it flow upon her Saviour's head,
As they indignantly do frown, but nought has she to dread:
"Wherefore this waste?" they all exclaim, "'tis far too costly, rare;"
Yet is he, unheeding their rebukes, bows like an angel there;
For how could she refuse to give when He her heart had won?
The precious ointment, see it flow upon her Saviour's head,
As they indignantly do frown, but nought has she to dread:
"Wherefore this waste?" they all exclaim, "'tis far too costly, rare;"
Yet is he, unheeding their rebukes, bows like an angel there;
