In Christ I feel the heart of God
Throbbing from Heav’n through earth;
Life stirs again with­in the clod,
Renewed in beau­te­ous birth;
The soul springs up, a flow­er of pray­er,
Breathing His breath out on the air.

In Christ I touch the hand of God,
From His pure height reached down,
By bless­èd ways before un­trod,
To lift us to our crown;
Vict’ry that on­ly per­fect is
Through lov­ing sac­ri­fice, like His.

Holding His hand, my stea­died feet
May walk the air, the seas;
On life and death His smile falls sweet,
Lights up all mys­ter­ies;
Stranger nor ex­ile can I be
In new worlds where He lead­eth me.

Not my Christ on­ly; He is ours:
Humanity’s close bond;
Key to its vast, un­op­ened pow­ers,
Dream of our dreams be­yond.
What yet we shall be none can tell:
Now we are His, and all is well.