Poem

Living for Christ, I die;--how strange, that I,
Thus dying, live,--and yet, thus living, die!
Living for Christ, I die;-yet wondrous thought,
In that same death a deathless life is wrought;--
Living, I die to Earth, to self, to sin;--
Oh, blessed death, in which such life I win!

Dying for Christ, I live!--death cannot be
A terror, then, to one from death set free'
Living for Christ, rich blessings I attain,
Yet, dying for Him, mine is greater gain
Life for my Lord, is death to sin and strife,
Yet death for Him is everlas'ing life!

Dying for Christ, I live!--and yet, not I,
But He lives in me, who did for me die.
I die to live,--He lives to die no more,
Who, in His death my own death-sentence bore
"To live is Christ," if Christ within me reign,
To die more blessed, since "to die is gain!"

- Mrs. J. C. Yule