Elizabeth Cecilia Clephane (1830-1869) *©Copyright in this version Praise Trust

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Beneath the cross of Jesus
I gladly take my stand;
the shadow of a mighty rock
within a weary land;
a home within the wilderness,
a rest upon the way,
from the burning of the noontide heat,
and the burden of the day.

There lies, beneath its shadow,
but on the farther side,
the darkness of an awful grave
that gapes both deep and wide:
and there, between us, stands the cross –
two arms outstretched to save –
like a watchman set to guard the way
from that eternal grave.

Upon that cross of Jesus
my eye at times can see
the very dying form of one
who suffered there for me;
and from my broken heart, with tears,
two wonders I confess:
the wonders of his glorious love,
and my unworthiness.

His cross! I take its shadow,
to be my hiding place;
I ask no other sunshine than
the sunshine of his face;
content to let the world go by,
to know no gain nor loss:
my sinful self my only shame,
my glory all – the cross.