1 Thou say'st, "Take up thy cross,
O man, and follow me;"
The night is black, the feet are slack,
Yet we would follow Thee.
2 But, O dear Lord, we cry,
That we Thy face could see!
Thy blessèd face one moment's space--
Then might we follow Thee!
3 Dim tracts of time divide
Those golden days from me;
Thy voice comes strange o'er years of change;
How can I follow Thee?
4 Comes faint and far Thy voice
From vales of Galilee;
Thy vision fades in ancient shades;
How should we follow Thee?
5 O heavy cross -- of faith
In what we cannot see!
As once of yore Thyself restore,
And help to follow Thee.
6 If not as once Thou cam'st
In true humanity,
Come yet as Guest within the breast
That burns to follow Thee.
7 Within our heart of hearts
In nearest nearness be:
Set up Thy throne within Thine own:
Go, Lord: we follow Thee.
The Hymnal: Published by the authority of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., 1895