Truth Reflects upon Our Senses
    Footnotes
    Theme

    273

    Truth Reflects upon Our Senses

    Thoughtfully

    1. Truth reflects upon our senses;

    Gospel light reveals to some.

    If there still should be offenses,

    Woe to them by whom they come!

    Judge not, that ye be not judged,

    Was the counsel Jesus gave;

    Measure given, large or grudged,

    Just the same you must receive.

    [Chorus]

    Blessed Savior, thou wilt guide us,

    Till we reach that blissful shore

    Where the angels wait to join us

    In thy praise forevermore.

    2. Jesus said, “Be meek and lowly,”

    For ’tis high to be a judge;

    If I would be pure and holy,

    I must love without a grudge.

    It requires a constant labor

    All his precepts to obey.

    If I truly love my neighbor,

    I am in the narrow way.

    [Chorus]

    Blessed Savior, thou wilt guide us,

    Till we reach that blissful shore

    Where the angels wait to join us

    In thy praise forevermore.

    3. Once I said unto another,

    “In thine eye there is a mote;

    If thou art a friend, a brother,

    Hold, and let me pull it out.”

    But I could not see it fairly,

    For my sight was very dim.

    When I came to search more clearly,

    In mine eye there was a beam.

    [Chorus]

    Blessed Savior, thou wilt guide us,

    Till we reach that blissful shore

    Where the angels wait to join us

    In thy praise forevermore.

    4. If I love my brother dearer,

    And his mote I would erase,

    Then the light should shine the clearer,

    For the eye’s a tender place.

    Others I have oft reproved

    For an object like a mote;

    Now I wish this beam removed;

    Oh, that tears would wash it out!

    [Chorus]

    Blessed Savior, thou wilt guide us,

    Till we reach that blissful shore

    Where the angels wait to join us

    In thy praise forevermore.

    5. Charity and love are healing;

    These will give the clearest sight;

    When I saw my brother’s failing,

    I was not exactly right.

    Now I’ll take no further trouble;

    Jesus’ love is all my theme;

    Little motes are but a bubble

    When I think upon the beam.

    [Chorus]

    Blessed Savior, thou wilt guide us,

    Till we reach that blissful shore

    Where the angels wait to join us

    In thy praise forevermore.

    Text: Eliza R. Snow, 1807–1887; chorus by M. E. Abbey

    Music: Charles Davis Tillman, 1861–1943

    Matthew 7:1–5

    Alma 41:14–15