For they the mind of Christ discern
Who lean, like John, upon His breast.
How shall we test our love?
How shall the real be known
From that which takes its form?
Love "seeketh not her own."
None know how to prize the Saviour, but such as are zealous in pious works for others.
Earthly joy can take but a bat-like flight, always checked, always limited, in dusk and darkness. But the love of Christ breaks through the vaulting, and leads us up into the free sky above, expanding to the very throne of Jehovah, and drawing us still upward to the infinite heights of glory.
Fade, fade, each earthly joy;
Jesus is mine!
Break every earthly tie;
Jesus is mine;
Dark is the wilderness;
Earth has no resting-place;
Jesus alone can bless;
Jesus is mine.
Pure love is in the will alone; it is no sentimental love, for the imagination has no part in it; it loves, if we may so express it, without feeling, as faith believes without seeing.
