Poems and Hymns by D. W. Whittle
compiled by Stephen Ross

There's a royal banner given for display
  To the soldiers of the King;
As an ensign fair we lift it up to-day,
  While as ransomed ones we sing.

Refrain:
Marching on, marching on,
For Christ count everything but loss!
And to crown Him King, toil and sing,
'Neath the banner of the cross!

Though the foe may rage and gather as the flood,
  Let the standard be displayed;
And beneath its folds, as soldiers of the Lord,
  For the truth be not dismayed!

Over land and sea, wherever man may dwell,
  Make the glorious tidings known;
Of the crimson banner now the story tell,
  While the Lord shall claim His own!

When the glory dawns—'tis drawing very near—
  It is hastening day by day—
Then before our King the foe shall disappear,
  And the Cross the world shall sway.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

Blessed hope that in Jesus is given,
  In our sorrow to cheer and sustain,
That soon in the mansions of Heaven,
  We shall meet with our loved ones again.

Blessed hope in the word God has spoken,
  All our peace by that word we obtain;
And as sure as God's word was ne'er broken,
  We shall meet with our lov'd ones again.

Blessed hope! how it shines in our sorrow,
  Like the star over Bethlehem's plain,
That it may be, with Him, ere the morrow,
  We shall meet with our lov'd ones again.

Blessed hope! the bright star of the morning,
  That shall herald His coming to reign;
O the glory that waits its fair dawning
  When we meet with our lov'd ones again.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

As lives the flower within the seed,
  As in the cone the tree,
So, praise the God of truth and grace,
  His Spirit dwelleth in me.

Refrain:
Christ liveth in me,
Christ liveth in me,
O what a salvation this,—
That Christ liveth in me.

Once far from God and dead in sin,
  No light my heart could see;
But in God's word the light I found,
  Now "Christ liveth in me."

As rays of light from yonder sun
  The flowers of earth set free,
So life and light and love came forth
  From "Christ living in me."

With longing all my heart is filled,
  That like Him I may be,
As on the wondrous thought I dwell,
  That "Christ liveth in me."
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

Dying with Jesus, His death reckoned mine;
  Living with Jesus, a new life divine;
Looking to Jesus till glory doth shine,
  Moment by moment, O Lord, I am Thine.

Refrain:
Moment by moment I'm kept in His love;
Moment by moment I've life from above;
Looking to Jesus till glory doth shine;
Moment by moment, O Lord, I am Thine.

Never a trial that He is not there,
  Never a burden that He doth not bear,
Never a sorrow that He doth not share,
  Moment by moment, I'm under His care.

Never a heartache, and never a groan,
  Never a teardrop and never a moan;
Never a danger but there on the throne,
  Moment by moment He thinks of His own.

Never a weakness that He doth not feel,
  Never a sickness that He cannot heal;
Moment by moment, in woe or in weal,
  Jesus, my Saviour, abides with me still.

Never a battle with wrong for the right,
  Never a contest that He does not fight;
Lifting above us His banner so bright,
  Moment by moment I'm kept in His sight.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

When God the way of life would teach,
  And gather all His own,
He placed them safe beyond the reach
 Of death, by blood alone.

Refrain:
It is His word, God's precious word,
It stands forever true;
When I the Lord shall see the blood,
I will pass over you.

By Christ, the sinless Lamb of God,
  The precious blood was shed,
When He fulfilled God's holy word,
 And suffered in our stead.

O soul, for thee salvation thus
  By God is freely given;
The blood of Christ atones for sin,
  And makes us meet for Heaven.

The wrath of God that was our due,
  Upon the Lamb was laid;
And by the shedding of His blood,
  The debt for us was paid.

How calm the judgment hour shall pass
  To all who do obey
The word of God about the blood,
  And make that word their stay.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

I know not why God's wondrous grace
  To me He hath made known,
Nor why—unworthy—Christ in love
  Redeemed me for His own.

Refrain:
But "I know whom I have believèd,
And am persuaded that He is able
To keep that which I've committed
Unto Him against that day."

I know not how this saving faith
  To me He did impart,
Nor how believing in His word
  Wrought peace within my heart.

I know not how the Spirit moves,
  Convincing men of sin,
Revealing Jesus through the word,
  Creating faith in Him.

I know not what of good or ill
  May be reserved for me,
Of weary ways or golden days,
  Before His face I see.

I know not when my Lord may come,
  At night or noonday fair,
Nor if I'll walk the vale with Him,
  Or "meet Him in the air."
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

The call of God is sounding clear,
O Christian, let it reach thine ear;
Endeavor now of souls to bring
A band, to love and serve the King.

Let us go forth, as called of God,
Redeemed by Jesus's precious blood;
His love to show, His life to live,
His message speak, His mercy give.

The Christ of God to glorify,
His grace in us to magnify;—
His word of life to all make known,
Be this our work, and this alone.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

Jesus is coming! sing the glad word!
Coming for those He redeemed by His blood;
Coming to reign as the glorified Lord!
Jesus is coming again!

Jesus is coming! the dead shall arise,
Loved ones shall meet in a joyful surprise,
Caught up together to Him in the skies.
Jesus is coming again!

Jesus is coming! His saints to release;
Coming to give to the warring earth peace:
Sinning and sighing, and sorrow, shall cease.
Jesus is coming again!

Jesus is coming! the promise is true;
Who are the chosen, the faithful, the few,
Waiting and watching, prepared for review?
Jesus is coming again!
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

"Jesus of Nazareth!" O what a name!
Let us rejoice and His glory proclaim;
Savior and Keeper forever the same,
  Shepherd, Redeemer and Lord.

Refrain:
Jesus of Nazareth, once crucified,
Jesus of Nazareth, now glorified,
Jesus of Nazareth, throned at God's side,
Glory and praise to His name.

Jesus of Nazareth! truly a man,
Low in a cradle His life He began,
Lived before God, both in pattern and plan,
  Righteous, obedient One.

Jesus of Nazareth! nailed to the tree,
Dying, that we by His death might be free,
Bearing the curse all for you and for me,
  Dying a ransom for all.

Jesus of Nazareth! raised from the dead,
Spotless and holy, and still in our stead,
Made for us ever our glorified head,
  Raised from the dead for us all.

Jesus of Nazareth! seated on high,
Sending the Spirit of grace to apply
Life through the word unto men far and nigh,
  Off'ring salvation to all.

Jesus of Nazareth! earth's coming King,
Peace to the warring world soon He shall bring,
Nations of saved ones His praises shall sing;
  All shall bow down at His name.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

"There shall be showers of blessing:"
  This is the promise of love;
There shall be seasons refreshing,
  Sent from the Saviour above.

Refrain:
Showers of blessing,
Showers of blessing we need:
Mercy drops round us are falling,
But for the showers we plead.

"There shall be showers of blessing,"
  Precious reviving again;
Over the hills and the valleys,
  Sound of abundance of rain.

"There shall be showers of blessing;"
  Send them upon us, O Lord;
Grant to us now a refreshing,
  Come, and now honor Thy word.

"There shall be showers of blessing:"
  Oh, that to-day they might fall,
Now as to God we're confessing,
  Now as on Jesus we call!
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

"Not my own!" but saved by Jesus,
  Who redeemed me by His blood,
Gladly I accept the message,
  I belong to Christ the Lord.

Refrain:
Not my own! Oh, not my own!
Jesus, I belong to Thee!
All I have, and all I hope for,
Thine for all eternity.

"Not my own!" to Christ, my Saviour,
  I, believing, trust my soul;
Ev'rything to Him committed,
  While eternal ages roll.

"Not my own!" my time, my talent,
  Freely all to Christ I bring,
To be used in joyful service
  For the glory of my King.

"Not my own!" the Lord accepts me,
  One among the ransomed throng,
Who in Heav'n shall see His glory,
  And to Jesus Christ belong.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

"Neither do I condemn thee,"—
  O words of wondrous grace;
Thy sins were born upon the cross,
  Believe, and go in peace

Refrain:
"Neither do I condemn thee,"
O sing it o'er and o'er;
Neither do I condemn thee,
Go and sin no more.

"Neither do I condemn thee,"—
  For there is therefore now
No condemnation for thee,
  As at the cross you bow.

"Neither do I condemn thee,"—
  I came not to condemn;
I came from God to save thee,
  And turn thee from thy sin.

"Neither do I condemn thee,"—
  O praise the God of grace;
O praise His Son our Saviour,
  For this His word of peace.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

Come sing, my soul, and praise the Lord,
Who hath redeemed thee by His blood;
Delivered thee from chains that bound,
And bro't thee to redemption ground.

Refrain:
Redemption ground, the ground of peace!
Redemption ground, O wondrous grace!
Here let our praise to God abound!
Who saves us on redemption ground.

Once from my God I wandered far,
And with His holy will made war;
But now my songs to God abound;
I'm standing on redemption ground.

O joyous hour when God to me
A vision gave of Calvary;
My bonds were loosed, my soul unbound;
I sang upon redemption ground.

No works of merit now I plead,
But Jesus take for all my need;
No righteousness in me is found,
Except upon redemption ground.

Come, weary soul, and here find rest;
Accept redemption, and be blest;
The Christ who died by God is crowned
To pardon on redemption ground.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

"Thou remainest," Blest Redeemer,
  Lord of peace and Lord of strife,
Jesus, Saviour, Lord forever,
  "Thou remainest," Christ my life.

Refrain:
Thou remainest
Thou remainest
Thou remainest, Christ, my all;
Peace or conflict, joy or sorrow,
Thou remainest, Christ my all.

Satisfying every longing,
  Of my sinful soul for grace;
From my weakness never turning,
  "Thou remainest," Christ my peace.

Earthly joys may some be fading,
  Wintery frosts sweet flow'rs destroy;
But above the cloud that's shading,
  "Thou remainest," Christ my joy.

One by one my loved ones leave me,
  Voices sweet no more be heard;
But of God naught can bereave me,
  "Thou remainest," Christ my Lord.

When from earth, Thou, Lord, shalt call me,
  Calm, I'll lay my burden down;
For I know, whate'er befall me,
  "Thou remainest," Christ my crown.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

Sin no more! thy soul is free
Christ has died to ransom thee;
Now the power of sin is o'er,
Jesus bids thee "sin no more."

Sin no more! but closely keep
Near the Hand that guards the sheep:
Shun the snares that lured before,
Trembling go, and sin no more.

Sin no more! His blood hath bought,
Think on what His love hath wrought;
Think of what for thee He bore,
Weeping go, and sin no more.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

Sons of God, beloved in Jesus!
  O the wondrous word of grace;
In His Son the Father sees us,
  And as sons He gives us place.

Blessèd hope now brightly beaming,
  On our God we soon shall gaze;
And in light celestial gleaming,
  We shall see our Saviour's face.

By the power of grace transforming,
  We shall then His image bear;
Christ His promised word performing,
  We shall then His glory share.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

Two gates, two ways, two paths for all,
  And all therein must go;
Each soul on earth is making choice
  Of life, or endless woe.

An open gate, a broadened way,
  An easy, flowery path;
And souls unwary throng therein,
  But oh! it ends in wrath.

A straightened gate, a narrow way,
  A path the saints have trod;
A light to guide by night and day,
  And oh! it leads to God.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

When my heart with sin was burdened,
  And I wandered far from God,
What a light shone in my darkness,
  By the entrance of His word.

How could I so vile and sinful,
  To a Holy God be brought?
Jesus, here revealed as Saviour,
  Gave the answer I had sought.

Now my heart is free from burden,
  Now I love and praise the Lord;
And rejoice to do His bidding,
  Saved, by trusting in His word.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

Going forth at Christ's command,
Going forth to every land;
Full salvation making known,
Thro' the blood of God's dear Son.

Serving God through all our days,
Toiling not for purse or praise;
But to magnify His name,
While the gospel we proclaim.

Seeking only souls to win,
From the deadly power of sin;
We would guide their steps aright,
Out of darkness into light.

"Saved to serve!" the watchword ring,
"Saved to serve," our glorious King;
Tell the story o'er and o'er,
"Saved to serve" forever more.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

"A Little while!" and He shall come;
  The hour draws on apace,
The blessed hour, the glorious morn,
  When we shall see His face:
How light the trials then will seem!
  How short our pilgrim way!
Our life on earth a fitful dream,
  Dispelled by dawning day!

"A little while!" with patience, Lord,
  I fain would ask, "How long?"
For how can I with such a hope
  Of glory and of Home,
With such a joy awaiting me,
  Not wish the hour were come?
How can I keep the longing back,
  And how suppress the groan?

Yet peace, my heart! and hush, my tongue!
  Be calm, my troubled breast!
Each passing hour is hast'ning on
  The everlasting rest:
Thou knowest well—the time thy God
  Appoints for thee is best;
The morning star will soon arise;
  The glow is in the East.

Then come, Lord Jesus, quickly come,
In glory and in light!
Come take Thy longing children Home,
And end earth's weary night!
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

To live is Christ; henceforth for me
My own desire, His face to see;
Morn, noon and night, before His throne,
He fills my heart with joy alone.

To live is Christ, He died for me,
And from my sins hath set me free;
Himself the prize, Himself the goal,
That speeds my steps and fills my soul.

Where'er I go may Christ be seen,
That all may know with Him I've been;
Although it bring reproach and shame,
He'll keep me true to His blest name.

From where He is, in glory There,
I watch for Him to soon appear;
The little while will soon be gone,
And I shall see His face ere long.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

Called out of darkness, and called into light;
Given for blindness a glorious sight;
Called out of bondage, and called to be free,
Children of holiness ever to be.

Called from the old life, and called to the new,
Out of the false life and into the true;
Called out of hatred, and called into love,
Filled with the Spirit of Christ from above.

Called from the guilty, and called into peace,
Ransom provided freely by grace;
Called form defilement, and called to be white,
Cleansed and made meet for the mansions of light.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

"Look unto me, and be ye saved,"
  O hear the blest command,
Salvation full! salvation free!
  Proclaim through every land.

"Look unto me," upon the cross,
  O weary, burdened soul,
'Twas there on me thy sins were laid,
  Believe and be made whole,

"Look unto me," thy risen Lord,
  In dark temptation's hour,
The needful grace I'll freely give,
  To keep from Satan's power.

"Look unto me," and not within
  No help is there for thee;
For pardon, peace, and all thy need,
  Look only "unto me."
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

The precious blood of Jesus shows
  God's wondrous love to me;
That love in fulness ever flows
  When Jesus' blood I see.

The precious blood of Jesus shows
  How sinful I have been;
Condemned, unholy in God's sight,
  With heart and life unclean.

The precious blood of Jesus shows
  The holiness of God;
To justify, He must be just,
  Our sins demanded blood.

The precious blood of Jesus shows
  Salvation all of grace;
To trust in merit of our own
  Would God's dear Son displace.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)

The storm is high, but at the helm
  My Lord is in command;
No swelling sea, nor tempest fierce,
  Can pluck me from His hand.

The winds and waves obey the will
  Of Him who died for me;
Why should I then their tumult fear,
  Or dread the raging sea?

Though darkness dread is on the deep,
  He knows the way I take;
And so I peacefully will sleep,
  For, with Him, I shall wake.

The sun in splendor o'er the sea
  Shall shine at God's command,
The clouds shall pass, the waves grow still,
  And I shall reach the land.

My anchor holds! O praise the Lord,
  'Tis fast within the veil;
'Tis strong and steadfast as God's word;
  The storms cannot prevail.
  —D. W. Whittle (1840-1901)