Indexes for The Sacred Harp, 2025 Edition

Jesus, I my cross have taken,
All to leave and follow Thee;
Naked, poor, despised, forsaken,
Thou, from hence, my all shalt be.
Perish ev’ry fond ambition,
All I’ve sought or hoped or known;
Yet how rich is my condition,
God and heav’n is still my own.

Let the world despise and leave me;
They have left my Savior, too;
Human hearts and looks deceive me;
Thou art not, like them, untrue.
And while Thou shalt smile upon me,
God of wisdom, love and might,
Foes may hate and friends disown me;
Show Thy face, and all is bright.

Man may trouble and distress me,
’Twill but drive me to Thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me;
Heav’n will bring me sweeter rest.
O, ’tis not in grief to harm me,
While Thy love is left to me!
O ’twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmixed with Thee.