A Little Talk With Jesus

  A LITTLE talk with Jesus, 

How it smooths the rugged road; 

How it seems to help me onward, 

When I faint beneath my load! 

When my heart is crushed with sorrow,

And my eyes with tears are dim, 

There is naught can yield me comfort, 

Like a little talk with him.

I tell him I am weary,

And I fain would be at rest 

That I'm daily, hourly longing

For a home upon his breast; 

And he answers me so sweetly

In tones of tenderest love, 

"I am coming soon to take thee

With all my saints above."

Ah! This is what I'm wanting,

His lovely face to see; 

And I'm not afraid to say it,

I know He's wanting me. 

He gave his life a ransom

To make me all his own, 

And he can't forget his promise

To me his purchased one.

I know the way is dreary

To yonder far-off clime, 

But a little talk with Jesus

Will while away the time; 

And yet the more I know him,

And all his grace explore, 

It only sets me longing

To know him more and more.

I cannot live without him,

Nor would I if I could; 

He is my daily portion,

My medicine and food. 

He's altogether lovely,

None can with him compare 

The chief among ten thousand,

The fairest of the fair.

So I'll wait a little longer

Till his appointed time, 

And glory in the knowledge

That such a hope is mine. 

Then in my Father's dwelling,

Where "many mansions" be, 

I'll sweetly talk with Jesus,

And he will talk with me.

Methodist Borne Journal.