For whosoever shall be ashamed of Me and of My words, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed, when He shall come in His own glory, and in His Father's, and of the holy angels.
Jesus, and shall it ever be
A mortal man ashamed of Thee?
Scorned be the thought by rich and poor:
My soul shall scorn it more and more.
Ashamed of Jesus! Sooner far
May evening blush to own a star!
He sheds the beams of light divine
O’er this benighted soul of mine.
Ashamed of Jesus! Just as soon
Let midnight be ashamed of noon.
’Tis midnight with my soul, till He,
Bright Morning Star, bids darkness flee.
Ashamed of Jesus! that dear Friend
On whom my hopes of heaven depend?
No! when I blush be this my shame,
That I no more revere His name.
Ashamed of Jesus! Yes I may
When I've no sins to wash away,
No tears to wipe, no joys to crave,
No fears to quell, no soul to save.1
Till then — nor is the boasting vain —
Till then I boast a Savior slain:
And Oh, may this my glory be,
That Christ is not ashamed of me!