AND shall I, Lord, the cup decline,
So wisely mixt by Love divine,
And tasted first by thee
The bitter draught thou drankest up,
And but this single, sacred drop,
Hast thou reserved for me.
Lord, I receive it at thy hand,
And bear, by thy benign command,
The salutary pain:
With thee to live, I gladly die
And suffer here, above the sky
With my dear Lord to reign.
Here only can I shew my love,
By suffering, my obedience prove,
And when thy heaven I share,
I cannot mourn for Jesu’s sake,
I cannot there thy cup partake,
I cannot suffer there.
Full gladly, then, for thee I grieve,
The honor of thy cross receive,
And bless the happy load;
Who would not in thy footsteps tread,
Who would not bow with thee his head,
And sympathize with God.