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Nearer, Still Nearer

Choosing to avoid the spotlight and content in her labours as a homemaker, Lelia N. Morris used a pseudonym in her writings. While sitting at her sewing one night, she began authoring her first lines. A habit ensued as she oft composed rhyme and harmony toiling about her daily tasks in the home. It would be polished at the piano and tucked away, a personal hymn. This was one of her inaugural works.

1.  Near-er, still near-er, close to thy heart,
Draw me, my Sav-iour, so pre-cious thou art;
Fold me, O fold me close to thy breast,
Shel-ter me safe in that “ha-ven of rest,”
Shel-ter me safe in that “ha-ven of rest.”

2.  Near-er, still near-er, noth-ing I bring,
Naught as an of-f’ring to Je-sus my King;
On-ly my sin-ful, now con-trite heart,
Grant me the cleans-ing thy blood doth im-part,
Grant me the cleans-ing thy blood doth im-part.

3.  Near-er, still near-er, Lord, to be thine
Sin, with its fol-lies, I glad-ly re-sign;
All of its pleas-ures, pomp and its pride,
Give me but Je-sus, my Lord cru-ci-fied,
Give me but Je-sus, my Lord cru-ci-fied.

4.  Near-er, still near-er, while life shall last,
Till all its strug-gles and tri-als are past;
Then through e-ter-nity, ev-er I’ll be
Near-er, my Sav-iour, still near-er to thee,
Near-er, my Sav-iour, still near-er to thee.

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