C. B. J. Root


ABIDING, oh, so wondrous sweet,

I’m resting at the Saviour’s feet,

I trust in Him, I’m satisfied,

I’m resting in the Crucified.

Abiding, abiding,

Oh! so wondrous sweet;

I’m resting, resting

At the Saviour’s feet.


He speaks, and by His Word is given

His peace, a rich foretaste of heaven;

Not as the world He peace doth give,

’Tis through this hope my soul shall live.


I live; not I; ’Tis He alone

By Whom the mighty work is done,

Dead to myself, alive to Him,

I count all loss His rest to gain.


Now rest, my heart, the work is done,

I’m saved through the Eternal Son:

Let all my powers my soul employ,

To tell the world my peace and joy.


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